


Utterly Broken

by soangelodrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depressed Harry, Drarry, Gay, M/M, Sassy Draco, drarry is the main ship tho, linny - Freeform, no smut sorry, romione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9902042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soangelodrarry/pseuds/soangelodrarry
Summary: Harry Potter is utterly broken. Every death pushes down on his shoulders so hard he can barely breath. Still, people worship him, he never gets into trouble and his very best friends treat him as if he is about to break down any moment. Then Draco Malfoy barges back into his life, harsh and with no sympathy, and slowly the two former rivals become friends. Or something more? Drarry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little angsty so just a warning. You can also read it on Wattpad or Fanfiction.net

Harry Potter stared at the door. The looming black door that was the entrance to grimwald place. He had a decision to make. Option one: Open the door, go to platform 9 3/4, go to hogwarts and face the pity, the worshiping. Option two: Open the door, go who knows where, and never return. Or Option three: Don't open the door, stay in bed all day and never leave.

Right now option two and three sounded very appealing. He continued to stare at the door, unable to decide. How many times had his godfather walked through that very door? How many times before he died? It's your fault, his mind whispered eerily, You should had known the vision wasn't real. Oh merlin, not now. Harry retreated from the door, and raced up the stairs, into the bathroom.

"Harry?" he heard from down stairs. Hermione, goddamnit. He looked to the razor he now held in his palm, placed above his dark wrist. "Harry?" he heard again.

No. He promised them he'd go to Hogwarts for "8th year". And he promised himself Hogwarts would be blood free. Everyone knows Harry Potter doesn't break promises. Yes you do.

"Mate? You there?" Ron. They were both there, both of them with their pity. He didn't want to come down, no seree he did not. But after all he had put them through, all the suffering and pain. Hermione had been tortured for Merlins sake. He put down the blade, and slowly lugged down the stairs, grabbing his trunk from the hall. Hermione and Ron stood at the door, worried looks on their faces, hands clasped. When they saw him, Harry saw their faces replace worry with pity. They thought he didn't see.

Ron smiled weakly, "Do you want help with your trunk?" he asked.

"No!" then Harry remembered himself, and all they things they had done for him, "Sorry, no thank you." Ron nodded meekly, and Hermione studied him, anxious creases lining her face.

"Let's go then," he said, wondering if it was too late for option two.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

When they arrived at the train station, Harry ducked his head, covering his scar with long hair. Still, people stared at him, and he heard them whispering. The little first years stared up at him in awe, adults a mixture of pity and wonder. Fellow 8th and 7th years nodded grimly at the trio, as they walked to the train station.

Harry saw Mrs Weasley with Ginny near the end of platform 9 3/4. Ginny and him broke it off, Harry needed space and Ginny needed Luna. When Mrs. Weasley spotted them she hurried over, Ginny trailing behind and hugged Ron and Hermione quickly, fussing over their nonexistent lint. She then bustled over to Harry. "Harry, dear! Now why didn't you come to the burrow?" She asked, not looking him in the eye, "We got it fixed up you know. Brand new!" You could have saved Fred, and she would still have her son.

Harry nodded, "I'm sorr-"

"Now don't you apologise," She interrupted, "You did save the wizarding world after all." She looked back for Ginny as Harry ducked his head and scowled. "Ginny!" Ginny stopped hugging Luna and looked over at her mum and Harry. She waved awkwardly and walked over, fingers twined with Luna's.

Mrs Weasley began to fuss over Ginny, and Harry looked around, spotting Ron and Hermione talking gravely as they got on to the train. "Hello Harry," he heard a soft voice say. He turned back to see Luna staring at him. "You've got an awful lot of despros around your head," Harry awkwardly scratched his arm, "Are you okay Harry?" she asked solemnly.

He coughed, "I'm fine,"

"No you're not.'

"Yes I am, I'm fine Luna."

"The despros," she started, before being interrupted by Ginny who had walked over to them, "Oh hello Ginny," Luna said, her voice happy and light.

"Hi Luna," Ginny replied, booping Luna on the nose, "Hey Harry," Ginny said to him. Merlin, he had never been in a more awkward conversation sense he and the other gryffindor boys learned about sex from Mcgonagall.

"Ginny," He said shortly, "I'm gonna..." He started to say before seeing the two girls were too caught up in each other to hear what he was saying. Walking away slowly, still watching them he trailed to the train.

"Ow!" A sharp voice said.

"Sorry," he replied to the person he had bumped into.

"A Potter apologising to a Malfoy, this is unreal," Draco Malfoy drawled, crossing his arms. Despite it all, Harry was actually glad to see Malfoy. Malfoy was the only person who treated him as a human being, but being Malfoy, who treated everyone like dirt, that wasn't saying much.

"Don't get used to it, Malfoy," he replied. Surprisingly, Malfoy mentioned nothing about his parents. In fact, Malfoy hadn't insulted him at all, but instead stared at him, as if waiting for something. "Don't be going soft on me either," Harry practically growled.

Malfoy smiled, teeth bared, "Never scarhead," he paused, "I was just waiting for you to call me a dirty death eater like the rest," he said somewhat quieter.

"You do probably eat the bones of your victims," Harry replied, "But I'm pretty sure it's not possible to eat death."

"With me, I wouldn't be to sure," spat Malfoy, sounding more disgusted at himself then Harry.

"I'm never to sure with you, Malfoy."

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Harry sat in a compartment on the train with Ron and Hermione, who held hands and made eyes at each other every to seconds.  
When he was finally able to see the castle, he wasn't sure whether he was happy or empty. On a positive note, he wouldn't have to deal with Ron and Hermione's lovey dovey, but this was the place of so much death.  
Ron and Hermione had helped rebuild the school over so the summer, so they were used to the feeling, they had already walked over all the places someone had lost their life. But Harry hadn't.

All he knew is that they finally had reached the place Harry called a home for so long.

/*/*/*/*/*/*


	2. Chapter Two

As Harry stared up at the Hogwarts, the crowd parting around him, he sucked in his breath. He could do this, he could walk over the places where so many had died, and where he had lived. Hermione and Ron stood on either side of him, trying to support him, and failing miserly.

Ron put his warm hand on Harry's shoulder, causing Harry to turn around suddenly. "You okay?" he asked hesitantly. Ron had always been the emotional one, as much as he tried to deny it. Hermione looked at Harry, eyes soft with pity.

Harry said nothing for a moment longer then acceptable, "I'm fine," he muttered. He was sick of those words. He was sick of everything. He stared back at the school, with its swirly towers and majestical feel. He remembered the original wonder and awe he had felt when he first saw the castle. He remembered how his first thought was, it's so much bigger then my cupboard, "bigger then my cupboard," he murmured out loud.

"What?" questioned Hermione.

"Nothing," he replied ducking his head in embarrassment. "Come on," Harry forced himself to move forwards, he could do this. As he walked forwards, Ron and Hermione trailing behind him, his shoulders drooped more and more and he felt as if he was carrying a thousand bricks on his back. Why did he come back? Oh god, why?

"Harry?" He heard, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped back to Hermione. In silence, the trio got into a carriage with Ginny and Luna, who waved hello.

Ron and Hermione stared at the threstrals at the front. "So that's what they look like," whispered Ron, staring at their leathery black skin and their hollow empty eyes. Ron looked back at him, as did Hermione, their eyes filled with something like horror. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," he rasped, eyebrows pressed together. Ron's face was pale and almost no freckle in sight. Hermione nodded along with Ron.

Luna giggled, "Notice they don't apologise to me." Harry squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable. Luna always said the truth no one wanted to acknowledge.

Ginny glared at her brother, until he muttered "Sorry," to Luna.

"It's fine," Luna replied, seemingly staring into Ron's soul, "Nobody apologises to me, expect Ginny and Draco," Harry jerked a little at Malfoy's first name, but Luna most interpreted as protest, so she added, "And you Harry-"

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked for Harry. Ginny scowled at the name, but Luna smiled.

"Oh yes, Draco is ever so nice," Luna said dreamily, "He plays for me, you know, all sorts of things..."

"But why does he apologise to you?" Hermione interrupted.

Luna looked down from the sky, which she had been staring at, "For not being to get me out of the prison, of course." Hermione fell into silence at the answer, a strange look on her face.

Every time the carriage hit a bump in the road, Harry's back slammed into the the sharp edge of the carriage. The others had leaned forwards a tad to compensate, but Harry leaned back, relishing in the brief pain. As if summoned by the thought, Luna turned to look at him, eyes ghostly but free of judgement. She didn't say anything, but Harry could tell she was bothered, because she reached over and gripped Ginny's hand tightly.

The carriage fell into an uncomfortable silence, the two couples shifting closer to each other, leaving Harry staring at his hands. The rest of the carriage ride, Harry's mind with filled with thoughts of what Luna had said about Malfoy. What did he play? Sports? No, that didn't seem like it. Music? Harry couldn't think of snobby Malfoy playing an instrument. Actually he could, but only because Malfoy had been forced, Harry couldn't see the blond playing an instrument for fun.

When they finally reached the castle, Harry's body filled with dread and self loathing. The soft murmuring that had buzzed in Harry's ears disappeared.

Death, so much death. Death had a certain smell to it, almost sweet but so so horrible. Harry glanced around him, looking at all the bodies. Looking at their dirty face, their torn clothes. He stared at their empty eyes, and all he wanted to do was scream. They were only children. THEY WERE ONLY CHILDREN.

He saw their blood, seeping on the floor, he saw their friends and their family standing over them, no, sagging over them, barely staying up. He heard their sobs and their cries. Each one stabbed into him like a knife. This was his fault. He could had been faster, smarter, and they wouldn't be dead. He saw the Weasley's standing over a body. Fred. Merlin, no. Not Fred. Fred who had always been so nice to him, who had never pranked him and even included him in some of his pranks. Merlin.

He saw Mrs. Weasley collapsing, he saw Ron unable to move and worst of all he saw George. He saw George sobbing over Fred's dead body, his face holding the expression of pure despair.

Next to Fred lay Tonks and Remus, their hands reaching towards each other, limp and bloody. The last Marauder was dead. His father's legacy was dead. What was Harry going to do with Teddy? What was he going to tell the toddler when he grew up. "If I had been faster, your parents would still be alive, but I wasn't, so sorry."

Harry ran. He couldn't do it anymore. He ran and ran and ran till he reached the astronomy tower, he ran until he was right the edge of the exact window Dumbledore had fallen out of. And he screamed. He screamed till his throat was bloody and sore. He screamed till he couldn't and then he started crying, violent, wet tears. He looked out over the edge of the window, looking down to the ground. Years of quidditch made him used to the heights. Still crying, he wondered what would happen if he just let go. If he just fell.

He stayed like that for as long as he thought he could before Hermione and Ron went looking for him. He wiped his face, and put on his Gryffindor mask. Brave and trustworthy. But oh the death.

"Well at least we know it's gonna be better then last year," said Ginny humorously. All four looked at her, "Oh right, you weren't... sorry," Ginny blushed.

"It's fine," giggled Luna, kissing Ginny on the nose.

Hermione nodded determinedly, "Come on guys," she persisted, pulling Ron towards the door to the great hall. As the five of them walked through the door, Harry stared at the ceiling in awe, just as he did every other year. After a summer of not seeing it every day, it was extraordinary. Luna and Ginny separated with a kiss, and the four Gryffindors walked to their table, glancing at all the empty spaces once filled with students now gone. There was so little people. It's your fault.

When everyone sat down, the first years were sent in. Harry wanted to enjoy seeing their eyes light up in awe at the ceiling, but he couldn't manage it. Looking up at the teacher's table, he saw Mcgonagall looking out at all the empty spaces at the tables, just as he had been moments before. Slughorn brought out the sorting hat which opened its mouth as soon as it was sat on the bench.

Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Where in the war last,

they fought hard and true,

many only to be caught in a blast

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

Who used every trick they knew,

To save limb and lives,

Not even asking for a thank you

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

The only house to protect all the little ones

Using all their cunning and determination

In which they have tons

Or maybe good old Gryffindor

Where dwell brave of heart

Who fought along side us all

Even though it wasn't very smart

Remember dear children

No house is better then the other

For everyone fought

Even if it was a bit of a bother

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

Everyone one in the great hall, sat solemnly throughout the song, thinking of the lives lost. Harry felt himself grow more empty as the song went on, and glanced over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting alone, separate from the other Slytherins who seemed to be looking at him with disgust. Good, he deserved it.

When the song ended, a hesitant applause began, before ending awkwardly. When the first name was called, echoes of clapping still rang through the hall.

"Sarah Abbing!" She walked up slowly to the bench, before looking around and slowly walking faster.

"Slytherin!"

For the first time since Harry's first year at Hogwarts, nobody booed as the first Slytherin was sorted. After all, Harry supposed, the remaining Slytherins had gathered the first and second years from all houses and protected them. Harry didn't have huge grudges against the house itself, but rather the former king of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. He actually had thought the treatment of Slytherins was unfair, almost being a Slytherin himself.

"Terry Moths!" The boy walked up confidently to the seat, and sat down with a plop.

"Gryffindor!"

Harry didn't bother to applaud, but noted the boy look positively thrilled to be sorted into Gryffindor. Right away the boy searched for Harry, before spotting him and waved nervously at him. Harry didn't nothing but stare.

Had that happened the year before, Hermione would had scolded, and forced him to be nice, but being now, she did nothing but look at him with pity and worry.

Harry had a permanent scowl stuck to his face for the rest of the sorting and meal. He never noticed a certain Slytherin staring at him with curiosity, rather then disgust.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Mcgonagall turned to the 8th years, her grey hair tucked under her witches hat. Harry respected Mcgonagall, in fact, she was somewhat of motherly figure to him. "8th years will be in a special dorm, as there are so little of you," she nodded to each of them, "You will be paired with one other person to share a room with. You are not allowed to complain nor switch roommates. Your roommates were chosen carefully to fit both people."

Harry honestly didn't care who he was paired with, as long as they didn't bother him.

"Hannah Abbot, you will be with Parvati Patil, Ernie Macmillan with Terry Boot, Ron Weasley with Seamus Finnigan," Dean groaned, but the teacher's knew about their relationship so Harry suspected that he knew they weren't going to be together.

"Sorry, mate," Seamus said to Dean, before ruffling Ron's hair. Ron laughed, before looking over at Harry guiltily. Harry heard him try to say something, but pretended he didn't hear him.

Mcgonagall started again, "Hermione Granger with Padma Patil, Pansy Parkinson with Susan Bones, Dean Thomas with Anthony Goldstein and finally Harry Potter with Draco Malfoy." Harry really should have expected that, life seemed to hate him. "If anyone has any questions, you may ask them now," no one said anything, not even Hermione, "Okay then. The other professors and I tried to mix up the houses as much as possible, as we would like to promote inter house unity. Please try to be a good example for the younger students. I'm sure you all we become all like family over the year," Mcgonagall finished with a flourish.

Harry turned to Draco, who was scowling at him. Parkinson seemed to be comforting him, as the two boys continued to glare at each other. She finally followed Malfoys gaze where she saw Harry staring back. She practically growled at Harry before dragging Malfoy out of his chair and stomping after the other students, who were following Slughorn to their rooms. Harry was about to follow when Mcgonagall called out to him.

"Potter! Please come here for a moment," she called, "I hope you understand why I place you with Draco," When Harry didn't reply, she continued, "I know of your 'rivalry' but I also know that you would never judge someone for their past, as you forgave Severus. I feared that if I place with someone else they would torment and bully him; I am trusting that you won't." She lifted one eyebrow sternly, teacher glare activated.

Harry nodded, "I won't."

"Good," she replied, "Go catch up with your fellow students then," Harry nodded once again before turning to jog after the other 8th years. "Oh and Potter," he heard her say, "Thank you."

Harry scowled, he was so sick of people thanking him, he knew what they really thought, what was true. He should have just been faster.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Harry looked around the 8th year common room again, unable to believe it. Even in the dim light he could see how amazing it was. It was empty of people, all the others must have been in their room sleeping. Looking around, Harry sighed, this was much better then Grimwauld Place. The walls were a deep purple, with the Hogwarts crest on each wall. The couches and chairs were all white or black. However, the ceiling was the most impressive. It was much like the Great Hall's ceiling but painted like the sunset instead.

"Luna painted it," Hermione said from behind him, "It's charmed to change as the actual sky does." Ron must already be in his room, sleeping, while Hermione stayed up to wait for him. He had gone to the astronomy tower after his talk with Mcgonagall, just to look out and wonder. If it was this late, he must have been gone longer then he thought.

"It's amazing," He replied, believing completely in the words he was saying.

"Isn't it? And impressive spell work as well." Of course Hermione would pay attention to the spell work, rather then the art itself.

Harry was already finding it awkward talking to one of his best friends, he couldn't help but remember all those looks of pity that loomed across her face almost constantly. "I'm gonna go to bed," he mumbled, "Night 'mione."

"Good Night Harry," She replied softly, looking away from the ceiling to him, pity dancing across her face.

Harry looked back at her, before he entered his room. She stood alone in the middle of the empty common room, frizzy hair pulled into a bun, looking up at the ceiling with her arms crossed, a sad expression on her face. Her soft red sweater and black jeans seamed rather depressing in the dark light. Harry couldn't help to feel horrible about how he treated her. He heard her sigh and saw her shoulder slump after she thought he had left. She uncrossed her arms and walked slowly into the room she shared with Padma, her soft footsteps harsh in the silence.

Harry entered his room, to find the bathroom door locked and steam coming out through the cracks in the door. Quietly he got undressed and put on Dudley's old clothes before getting into the bed that was clearly his, as it had a red cover and the other had green. He rolled onto his side, wincing at the slight pain he felt when doing so. Staring at the light purple wall, he thought about how weird it was going to share a room with Malfoy. Not horrible, but weird.

He shifted onto his back and saw the ceiling was painted the same as the common room. Staring at the starry ceiling, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

A long while later, who knows how long, he faintly heard Malfoy come out of the bathroom and quietly get into his bed.

The blond and the brunet soon both fell into a sleep riddled with nightmares and terror.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

So thats the next chapter! Is it too long? Is it too short? Please please tell me, i would appreciate it so much. Also, if you see any spelling error, feel free to point that out too. And i'm looking for someone to be my beta maybe? So if your interested please tell me

Much love,

me


	3. Chapter Three

All the eighth years received their schedules the next morning, as they appeared on their beds when the students awoke. Harry looked at his schedule, eyes still bleary from sleep.

He had chosen to focus on becoming a teacher, not an auror, like Ron. He couldn't stand the violence, the battles, even if it was to save people. He was too weak.

Harry looked over his schedule again:

Monday: Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Charms

Tuesday: History of Magic, Transfiguration, Study of Magic Runes

Wednesday: Transfiguration, Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts

Thursday: Advanced Potions, Arithmancy

Friday: Charms, Study of Magic Runes, History of Magic

Harry was trying to become the Defence Against the Dark Arts, as he had always been great at the subject and loved it as well.

Harry got up from his bed slowly, glancing over at Malfoy to make sure he was still asleep. Seeing that he was, Harry let his arms come out from under the covers, purposely looking away from his scared arms.

Quickly grabbing his robes, he jogged to the bathroom to change. He rushed to put on his robes, pretending the mirror didn't exist. When he walked back into the room, Malfoy was awake, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, blond hair sticking up in a variety of directions.

"Nice hair, Malfoy," Harry mocked, reaching to grab his schedule.

Yelping, Malfoy scrambled to cover his head, finding only a pillow. "Bugger off," Malfoy snarked in reply as he grabbed his robes, dropped the pillow, placed the robes on his head and ran to the bathroom.

Harry glanced up at the ceiling ,which was cloudy and grey, before entering the common room. The ceiling of the common room was bright but cloudy, shining soft light on the students below. Harry spotted Hermione, reading on one of the chair with her legs pulled up close to her, making her seem small. Harry debated whether he should wait with Hermione for Ron and head down to breakfast with them, or if he should quickly grab something in the kitchen and go to the astronomy tower to be alone.

He continued to stare at Hermione, running the two options through his mind. Hermione was oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil as she was so sucked into her book. When he saw Ron lumber out of his room, Seamus following behind, he made had his decision. Just as Ron had reached Hermione, Harry had quietly escaped from the common room.

He rushed down to the kitchens, staring around to make sure nobody was coming while he tickled the pear. Upon entering the kitchens, a bunch of house elves who had previously been making breakfast, turned to look at him simultaneously. Dobby should be here.

"Master Harry!" One called, rushing to Harry's knees and hugging them graciously. The other elves called out a variety of thing similar to what the first elf had said.

"What can we do for you, sir?" A short, stumpy elf asked.

"I'll just have a treacle tart, please," requested Harry. All at once the elves rushed to get Harry a tart. Soon a pile of about twenty tarts had been made, on the table near the middle of the kitchen.

"Sir, there you go, sir," The elves said, bumbling over each other while speaking.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, placing the tarts in a basket.

The elves practically glowed as they rushed about, "Oh! Master has said thank you! Master is so kind."

Harry awkwardly stumbled out of the room, bumping into Kreacher along the way, who gruffly muttered, "Filthy blood traitor," good naturally.

Harry sprinted up the moving staircases, nearly falling when one moved suddenly away from a ledge. He jumped to the ledge before hurrying on. When he reached the tower, he felt a sense of peace he never felt when around other people. The feeling soon disappeared when he saw he was not alone in the tower. Sitting right on the edge of the window sill was none other then Draco Malfoy, Harry's sworn enemy.

Malfoy was staring out at the sky, his back to Harry, and his hair ruffled in the wind. He almost looked beautiful, but Harry was totally not thinking that. As if sensing his presence, Malfoy turned around sharply and spotted Harry with the basket of tarts. Noticing Malfoy's puffy eyes and tearstained face, Harry realised Malfoy had been crying.

This is your fault. His mind said, even though no logic pointed to it. Had it been two years before, Harry would have been glad that he was crying, overjoyed even. But know, after knowing all Malfoy had been through, how Malfoy had quite literally saved his life, Harry wasn't sure what to think.

Malfoy stared at him, his pale face empty of all things but shock. Harry and Malfoy seemed to be stuck in time. They stared nonmoving at each other, each stone still for completely different reasons. Harry gripped the basket tightly, unsure what to do when suddenly Malfoy screeched, "GET OUT!" Harry jumped automatically reaching for his wand and pointing it at Malfoy.

Malfoy took all this in, and knowing that Harry could quite literally kill him, stepped forwards, "GET OUT YOU STUPID SCARHEAD!" Malfoy's usually pale face was red with anger and disgust. He pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Harry. The two now stood against each other, one seething with anger, the other not quite knowing what to do.

Harry's thoughts went to the logical part of his brain, "YOU ABSOLUTE PRAT!" He screamed back. It seemed, when it came to Malfoy, Harry never thought logically. "WHAT GIVES YOU A RIGHT TO TELL ME TO GET OUT!? I DON'T SEE YOUR NAME WRITTEN ANYWHERE!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot I was speaking TO THE BLOODY SAVIOUR OF THE WIZARDING WORLD!" Malfoy shook his hands aggressively, wand hand included. Harry moved to speak, but, "OH RIGHT! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!"

"You, Draco Malfoy, are an ASSHOLE!"

"AND YOU AREN'T?!"

"NO MALFOY! I'M THE SAVIOUR OF THE BLOODY WIZARDING WORLD!"

"LET ME BOW BEFORE YOUR GREATNESS THEN!" Malfoy lowered himself onto his knees, lowering his wand in the process. Harry lowered his wand too, and dropped the basket of tarts, feeling quite ridiculous to have been holding it like that the entire time.

"I thought Malfoy's were the ones bowed to, the great and powerful INBREDS!"

"What did you just say?" Malfoy hissed, deadly quiet, standing up and glaring at Harry.

"I said you're inbred. What? You didn't kno-"

Malfoy in Harry's face, hand gripping Harry's ropes, "Say. One. More. Word. -"

"Word," whispered Harry mockingly. Malfoy screamed in frustration, before letting go of Harry's shirt and sprinting out of the door, knocking over the basket of tarts in the process. When the glow of Malfoy's hair disappeared from behind the door, Harry found himself almost missing the absence of Malfoy's heat. Looking over the conversation, if you could call it that, Harry noticed how intimate the situation had been. Malfoy had quite literally been inches away from, their lips even closer. Not that Harry cared. He didn't.

Harry stared at the basket of knocked over treats, with the contents spilled over the floor and the basket turned onto its side. It was almost a cheesy representation of his mental state. Harry continued to stare until his eyes hurt, unable to move. His arms hung by his side, and he was still breathing heavily.

Suddenly he bolted, nearly tripping over the spilled tarts. He just ran and ran, running into a few students leaving early from breakfast. They stared at him in confusion but he just kept running until he couldn't breath.

Harry found himself in a unfamiliar corridor, "Tempus," he muttered. "Shit!" It 10 minutes after his first class had started. He pulled out his schedule and then sprinted to the Defence Against the Arts Room.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

When he arrived outside the door, he had started to sweat, so he rubbed his face with his sleeve, before opening the door. The class inside consisted of both seventh and eighth, Ron, Hermione and a couple other eighth years were in the class, as well as Ginny. Harry looked up at the professor, who was an old man who looked like he could collapse at any moment.

"You must be Harry Potter?" The professor asked, his voice croaky with age. Harry nodded. "I'm your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, William Johnson, I was just explaining to the class who I am," He croaked. "Please sit down, Mr. Potter, and do try to be on time next time."

Ron was sitting next to Hermione, and he saw no one else he knew that was available, so he quickly sat next to some random 7th year who nearly fainted when she saw Harry had sat next to her.

Suddenly the door opened and in rushed another 7th year, "Sorry, I'm late, I jus-"

"No excuses," Professor Johnson grunted, "Five points from?"

"Hufflepuff," Mumbled the poor seventh year. Harry felt a burst of anger, he had been late too! He hated receiving special treatment, absolutely despised it.

He saw Ron looking at him, shaking his head, as Ron knew what Harry was about to do. "Professor?" Harry called.

"Yes?" replied Professor Johnson, surprised.

"How come you took off points from him, and you didn't from me?" Harry didn't mean to sound accusing, it just came out that way.

"Well... um..."

"Could you please continue?" Asked Hermione suddenly.

The professor leapt on the opportunity, "As I was saying," the old man started, "I was top auror in my day, back in the 40s, I helped take care of the whole Grindelwald situation..." Harry zoned out the professor, knowing this was going to be another boring year of acing the class, but this time because of no reason but the fact that he was Harry Potter.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, the entire lesson dedicated to the Professor's past and what they were going to be doing in the following year. When the time to leave finally arrived, Harry was so relieved that he near sprinted out of the room.

"Harry!" he heard from behind him. Turning around, he saw that the voice belonged to the 7th year he had to sit next to. Christy? "I just..." she blushed, "Thank you! For... you know..."

Harry nodded, jaw clenched, "Er... You're welcome?"

She blushed again, "Well... um... Bye!" She stuttered before sprinting back to her giggling friends. Harry turned away in disgust, he hated thanks. Can't they see how he failed them. At least thanks was better then pity, at least.

"Harry!" No, not again. "Do you like her?" Hermione nodded to Kirsty (Christy? Christina?). The trio started to walk back to the common room, as they had a half hour break. "You know, it wouldn't be bad to like someone, after Ginny-"

"Hermione!"

"I'm just saying,"

"Ron! Back me up!"

"Hermione, leave him alone, he's been through enough," Ron scolded.

Harry scowled, he didn't need Ron's pity.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione sighed, before saying, "Bagums," to open the common room door.

"Accepted," said the lilac lady, who was in the portrait that guarded the entry way.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, pushing her way through the entryway.

"Oh by Merlin!" the lilac lady screeched, her dress swishing around her ankles, "Someone noticed me! And said THANK YOU!" Ron stifled a laugh, however Harry thought it was quite sad. "It's a miracle!"

The Lilac Lady continued her sarcastic speech of gratitude, as the two boys followed after Hermione.

Harry clenched his jaw. He loved his friends, he really did, he just hated their pity. He hated how guilty they made him feel, if he had been faster, Ron's brother would still be alive, and Hermione would still have her parents.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Later in Arithmancy, Harry couldn't stop staring at Malfoy, thinking of their last 'conversation'. Malfoy deserved it, maybe? However, he couldn't help but think of last year, when he had been a prisoner at the Malfoy Manor, and Malfoy hadn't identified him.

Or later that year when Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy had tried to kill him (Well Malfoy had tried to prevent it, but he certainly wasn't innocent) and then Crabbe set the fire. Harry had (and did) hated Malfoy, and yet, he saved Malfoy's life, while putting his own life at risk.

Malfoy and him had a complicated relationship. He hated Malfoy more then he hated anyone, even Voldemort. He never used a curse more powerful then a defensive curse on him, and yet on Malfoy, he used an unknown curse that could had done anything. And Malfoy nearly died because of it, he only lived because Snape saved him.

Malfoy got underneath his skin like no one else, and Harry had no idea why.

Harry payed no attention in the next two classes, doing nothing but zoning out or staring at Malfoy. The blond would scamper away after every class, never giving Harry a chance to yell at him.

Hermione and Ron tried to talk to him, before giving up, as Harry did nothing but nod or grunt in return.

Right before lunch had finished, Harry rushed to the eighth dorms, wanting to do nothing but sleep. And doing, it. But he had promised himself. The brunet felt miserable, his throat burned with desperation and his hands trembled. The pain made it better, for a little while, but then it would go away, and he would feel nothing but worthless, for having to hurt himself to make his guilt go away.

He wouldn't.

No.

No.

"Bagums," Harry muttered.

The portrait swung open, but not before the Lilac Lady spluttered, "You could say thank you!"

"Thank you!" Harry practically growled. He sprinted to he and Malfoy's room, before slamming the door behind himself.

The brunet felt the bed slam into his face, and relished in the pain. He inhaled the smell of sheets, before dozing off to sleep.

Hot.

Burning.

FIRE!

The room was on fire, but no ordinary fire, hellifire. It destroyed everything it came across, and Harry, Hermione and Ron were soon to be destroyed. Then Harry saw the solution.

Brooms!

"Ron!" He yelled, "The brooms!" Ron looked to him and nodded, screaming something Harry couldn't hear. Ron grabbed a broom, as did Harry.

The ginger grabbed Hermione and flew out of the room, Harry following quickly behind.

Then Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle desperately climbing up a stack of things.

"Ron! We need to get them!" Harry screamed, but he was unable to find Ron. The crackle of the fire was becoming unbearable. The heat.

Harry turned back, ever the hero. The blond was on top of the pile, reaching out to Harry. Harry saw Crabbe fall, he saw Crabbe being burned alive. He heard the screams.

The brunet reached Malfoy, and Malfoy grabbed on to him, holding him so tightly it hurt. Harry's hands were hot and sweaty on the broom and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

And then his hands slipped as a huge burst of flames erupted. The slytherin who had been gripping him hard, fell too. And they both fell, holding each other in a fiery embrace.

Harry looked at Malfoy's tearstained face and his bloodshot eyes and his messed up hair and thought he was lucky to be able to die with Malfoy.

Harry thought, in his last seconds, how glad he was that Ron and Hermione were going to survive, and how sorry he was that he couldn't finish the war.

"I'm sorry," he thought, "I'm so sorry," and he must have said it out loud, because he heard Malfoy respond, "Me too."

And then they finally reached the fire. It was pure agony. Every inch of his body was burning, fiery pain. He screamed, as did Malfoy, so loud everyone must of heard it.

The pain went on and on.

And then everything went dar-

Harry woke up screaming. This was a regular occurrence, and he was used no one comforting him when he woke. But for some reason, he wished Malfoy was here. Even though Harry knew Malfoy would probably ignore him, or insult him, for some reason, Harry craved his presence.

Ron and Hermione were filled with nothing but pity, the others a mixture of awe and gratitude. He hated it. But Malfoy. Malfoy was normal. Malfoy treated him the same he always treated him, like dirt.

Harry hated it, but relished it.

Harry also hated himself for thinking such thoughts. He would not be having such thoughts about Malfoy.

In fact he shouldn't even be thinking about Malfoy.

He would not be having these thoughts again, especially about Malfoy. The last time he did, the boy had died.

Kill the spare.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

After charms, which he shared with both Ron and Hermione and most of the other 8th years, the brunet hurried up to the Astronomy tower, hoping Malfoy wouldn't be there.

When Harry reached the door to the entrance of the tower, he couldn't help but laugh. On the door, printed in large blocky letters, was the name DRACO.

Harry remembered their 'conversation' when he said (yelled) "WHAT GIVES YOU A RIGHT TO TELL ME TO GET OUT!? I DON'T SEE YOUR NAME WRITTEN ANYWHERE!"

Malfoy had taken him quite literally apparently, or maybe it was a joke, Harry couldn't tell, and had written his name on the tower. Harry practically collapsed from laughing so hard. He found the situation absolutely hilarious for some odd reason.

Harry kept the letters up and walked into the tower, feeling peaceful once more. And for the first time in a long time, he was smiling.


	4. Chapter Four

Over the past month, Harry and Malfoy had developed some sort of routine. Malfoy showered at night, steam floating up to the starry sky, while Harry would shower the next morning, the cold water streaming down his body. Harry got the Astronomy tower in the mornings, Malfoy got it first break, Harry second break. When Harry got the Astronomy tower after the last class of the day, Malfoy had it that evening, vice versa. They switched every other day. But of course they still fought, they wouldn't be Harry and Malfoy otherwise.

They had another secretive routine too, as Malfoy would stare at the brunet, observing his features and thinking treacherous thoughts. As Harry would shake and twitch because of nightmares, Malfoy would feel the urge to rock him awake and tell him, "It's just a nightmare. Just breath, in and out. It's just a nightmare," but of course he would force himself to just fall asleep instead.

And Harry would stare at the blond in the early morning, wondering why he was doing so. The sharp angles and the illuminating skin entranced Harry. Malfoy would twitch and shudder in his sleep, and Harry always wondered if it was nightmares of Malfoy somehow magically sensing Harry staring at him. Then he would force himself up, and take a cold shower to wake himself up. When he would walk back into the room, the Slytherin was either still asleep or gone, never in-between.

Harry would then go to the tower, pass his roommate's name on the entrance, and just look out and mourn. The Gryffindor would also wonder what Malfoy did when he was up here, and wonder what he was doing right now.

Then he'd travel to breakfast, always a little late, search for Malfoy, and when he found him, he'd finally sit down with Ron and Hermione and eat breakfast. Harry always ate two treacle tarts and had pumpkin juice, the same thing everyday. Malfoy would eat a pumpkin scone and have a coffee, always three sugar cubes. Then he'd go to his classes, some with Ron and Hermione, some with Malfoy. His days were so repetitive, you'd think he'd get sick of it, but he almost never did. It was nice to have a routine, compared to before, when it was just crazy and random.

Until one day, when he arrived at breakfast, and Malfoy wasn't there, quietly humming to himself while he drank his coffee. Harry panicked.

Where was Malfoy? Why wasn't he here? Did he purposely want to mess up Harry's day?

Harry's mind thought another thought he didn't want to think, Is he okay? I hope he is...

Harry then noticed that he was standing at the door, a couple people staring him curiously. He quickly scampered to the Gryffindor table, glancing at the Slytherin table every few seconds. The brunet couldn't even eat his breakfast.

Breakfast finished quickly, but classes took forever. Today was the day he had Advanced Potions, which he shared with Malfoy. Advanced Potions only occurred once a week, so it was therefore longer then any of the other classes. During the entire lesson, Harry stared at Malfoy's empty seat, unable to concentrate on the potion he was supposed to be making.

"Harry?" Slughorn said at the end of the lesson, "It's okay my boy, we all have bad days," nodding to Harry's empty cauldron, devoid of any potion ingredient, "Full marks!"

Harry was unable to scowl at his special treatment, as he was still distracted by Malfoy's absence. "Thanks," he muttered to Slughorn, before sprinting out of the classroom when Slughorn yelled "Class dismissed!"

He sprinted to their shared dorm, "Lolly!" raced past the portrait.

"MANNERS ARE ALWAYS NICE!"

He threw open the door, and glared throughout the room. Some of Malfoy's things were gone. Did he run away? Was he ordered to leave at once and was only able to take a few things? Was he taken?

Harry was mad with impossible ideas, but he main question was, where was Malfoy?

Shit, thought Harry, Arithmancy is about to begin. Harry then had to sprint to the other side of the castle to get to class on time. Great, this was another class he shared with the Slytherin (and Hermione).

Harry was yet again unable to concentrate, although in this class he normally never did, so it didn't really matter.

Why was Malfoy's disappearance bothering him so much? Harry assumed it was because Malfoy was a huge part of his routine. Maybe routine was a side effect of depression? Like the routine had to be followed or he'd go crazy? Honestly Harry didn't know. Where was Malfoy? Harry wondered if Malfoy was plotting something, he probably was, the Slytherin was always plotting something.

Maybe that's why he was gone, because he was plotting to kill Harry? The only thing Harry knew for sure was that he ached for Malfoy's insults. In a world of uncertainty and insanity, Malfoy's bulling was the only thing Harry could constantly rely on. Malfoy would always be there to laugh at him when he screwed up, and Malfoy would always be there to piss him off. Now that he wasn't there, Harry felt empty. He thought he normally felt empty, but with out the snarky blond's presence, He felt like a bottomless pit.

Even Hermione seemed to notice something was worse, as she constantly pestered him with "Harry? You okay?" and "I can just do it if you want me to," and pity.

"I'm fine," or "It's okay," he would reply, unable to saying anything more then two word answers.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Instead of going to the Astronomy tower as he normally would do (because it reminded him of Malfoy), Harry went and grabbed his broom.

He hadn't flown in forever. Just gripping his broom felt so right. Harry launched himself into the air, zooming vertically as fast as he could, relishing in the wind pushing into his face. His eyes burned and he could barely breath and it was amazing. When he finally paused, he seemed to be miles above the Hogwarts castle.

Harry stared out, observing the swirling towers and the magical look of Hogwarts; he looked at the forbidden forest, with it's towering dark trees, that looked minuscule from where he was. He had nearly died there several time, and then did die there. Then Harry looked up and beyond, at the cloudy blue sky. The clouds were puffy and gorgeous, and Harry had a childish impulse to fly up to them and see if he could stand on one of them. Harry stared up at the sky till he felt dizzy, and even after.

Suddenly he dived, surprising even himself. He went straight down, falling not flying. Screaming and laughing with exhilaration, Harry felt adrenaline run through his body like acid. It was amazing. Everything was going so fast, it wasn't blurry, it just seemed to not exist. The ground was approaching rapidly, but still Harry didn't pull up. He just continued to dive and dive, until he was a foot from the ground. He then suddenly jerked up, ignoring the screams of the people watching him.

Flying straight up again, Harry was unable to feel the same rush, and his mind went back to Malfoy. Where was he? Harry reached a spot even higher then where he was before. He could barely even see the people below, they looked like dots. Looking back up at the sky, he had the most insane idea he probably had ever had, which is saying a lot. Harry stood up on his broom, spreading his arms out for balance.

He was standing thousands of feet in the air. And it was amazing. Harry turned slowly around on his broom, looking out at the sky and the forest surrounding the castle. It was beautiful.

What would happen if he slipped? Or jumped? He would fall and fall until he crashed into the ground, most probably breaking every bone in his body. Why did that option sound so promising?

No. He couldn't do that to Hermione and Ron, and to whomever would find his body. Hell, he couldn't do that to Malfoy. He wouldn't jump.

The Gryffindor continued to stare out at the forest, the sun softly warming his face. He never noticed a certain blond staring at him from the Astronomy tower.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

That night, in the dorm room, Harry was unable to fall asleep. He kept staring over at the empty bed next to his. After having become so used to the presence of the snobby Slytherin, not having him there was weird and uncomfortable.

Harry woke up early the next morning. He must had have fallen asleep from pure exhaustion, as he could barely keep his eyes open. Forcing himself to take a shower, Harry ached for a blade.

No. He wouldn't.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

The rest of the day was pure torture, much like yesterday. During breakfast and his classes, he couldn't help but to stare at where Malfoy should be, but wasn't. He felt much like the empty spaces.

Harry tried to distract himself by playing exploding snap with Ron after classes ended, but was unable to. "Wondering about Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry's head jerked up, "What?"

"Well it's bloody obvious, you've been more mopey then usual since yesterday. And that's when he disappeared."

"Do you know what happened?"

"His mum was killed by some radical Death Eater hater, or something," Ron replied, "Read about it in the paper."

But Harry was already gone, his mind distracted by thoughts of Malfoy's mother, and how she saved his life. "Now he only has one parent," Harry thought allowed.

"No. Zero," Ron sighed, "His dad killed himself instead of getting the dementor's kiss."

Oh, Merlin. Harry hadn't received any newspapers over the summer, wanting to block himself completely from society. Now Malfoy was an orphan, like him. Harry needed to do something to help. He didn't know what, but he needed to do something.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

The next day, Malfoy was back, and the routine was in order. But at breakfast, Malfoy didn't eat his pumpkin scone and he didn't drink his coffee with three sugar cubes, in fact he didn't eat anything at all. Malfoy didn't argue with Harry, they had no fights, and didn't even bicker, instead it was just stoney silence.

Harry hated it.

He had thought that Malfoy was the one thing he could rely on. Guess not.

He needed to do something, he needed to make it normal again. So he devised a plan.

The break when he was supposed to go the tower, he instead went to the kitchens, and asked the elves to make him pumpkin scones.

"Yes Master!" They all called, except for Kreacher who muttered "Filthy Blood traitor."

Harry took the basket of pumpkin scones, and put his note in it. He then raced up to the astronomy tower, and left the basket right where he knew Draco sat.

When Harry walked back to the common rooms, he faintly heard the sound of a string instrument. It sounded just a bit lower then a violin, but then again Harry knew nothing about music. But he did know it was beautiful.

Stopping to listen, he felt as if the person playing should professionally play, as it was so enchanting and emotional. Still, he continued on his way.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Later that night, Draco walked up to the Astronomy tower, trying not to think about his mother. He paused when he saw a basket sitting in the exact spot he always sat.

He creeped up on the basket, wondering if it was booby trapped. After all, a Death Eater hater had killed his mother. He opened the basket slowly, relaxing when he saw it was only pumpkin scones.

There was a note on top, and Draco began to read it.

The handwriting was messy, but still legible:

Dear Malfoy,

I don't really know why I'm writing you a note, I mean I could had just left the basket with no note... but... I don't know. Anyway, I'm so sorry about your mother. I never knew my parents, but I still know how it feels. When I was going into the woods, to you know, my parents were with me, and when they had to leave, it destroyed me. I can't explain to how they were there with me however, sorry. I just want to let you that I'm here for you. I guess? Sorry, I'm really bad at this.  
Anyway, I know what its like to be an orphan, and I know how people are going to pity you, and I know how much pity sucks. I don't pity you by the way. I think your situation sucks, but I don't pity you.

Please eat these scones. I've noticed you haven't eaten at all since what happened. Eat. Besides, a Malfoy looking starving? What would your mother say? You'd be a disgrace. Just eat Malfoy. If I'm right, you're probably a little teary right now, although you'd never admit it. And now you're rolling your eyes. Now you're stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Now you're brushing your hand through your hair in a further attempt to not roll your eyes. Speaking of your hair, I like it better with no gel, it's much more adult like, and I have no idea why I said that. Please ignore the previous sentence.

Anyway, EAT THE FUCKING SCONES MALFOY.

DO IT.

Harry (Which was crossed out) Potter

Draco clutched the letter to his chest, laughing tearfully. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Harry fucking Potter was writing him letters and giving him baskets of his favourite scones. Harry fucking Potter was commenting on his hair and noticing his eating habits. Harry fucking Potter was worried about him.

And he was hopelessly in love with Harry fucking Potter.

/*/*/*/*/*/*


	5. Chapter Five

The next weekend, Harry gave in to Hermione and Ron, and went to Hogsmede with them. Although it was a little awkward, as none of them knew what to say, Harry felt very normal. He cherished the feeling.

Harry glanced around at the slightly blurred landscape, the soft green grass was appealing and luscious. "Harry?" he heard, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied to Ron, "Just dazed out." Ron nodded, before turning to his girlfriend.

The brunet felt excluded, but didn't mind because it gave him time to just look out at the scenery. Most people thought that Harry didn't pay attention to the small details, but he did, in fact that was most of what he did.

For example he knew every single little detail about Draco Malfoy, because Malfoy was his sworn enemy.

When they finally reached the small town, they went right to get a butterbeer. The Homey and cozy bar was full of other Hogwarts students, but not Malfoy.

The students noticed Harry as soon as the trio came in. Their loud conversations turned soft whispers. Harry scowled, before ducking his head to cover his scar and rushed over to the counter.

"Three butterbeers," Hermione requested.

Rosmeta smiled, "Of course, my dear," Her long earrings dangling. The trio grabbed their butterbeers, and went to find a somewhat private table.

As they sat down, none other then Draco walked through the bar with Pansy Parkinson. The Blond glanced around the restaurant cooly, his icy grey eyes observing every little detail.

The Slytherin was adorned in black skinny jeans, (very skinny jeans that showed off his perfect ars-) and a tight t-shirt. Merlin, his arm, the dark mark was black and ugly, but it was surrounded by flowers, beautiful little narcissa flowers.

Malfoy's loose blond hair accented his sharp cheekbones and jawline (Harry would not be having these thoughts again).

"Harry?" he heard a feminine voice from behind him, but he ignored it and instead chose to keep staring at the other boy.

"Probably staring at Malfoy again," A deeper voice replied to Hermione.

"Why would he be doing that?" Hermione inquired at the same time as Harry cried:

"I'm not staring at Malfoy!"

Ron looked at him pointedly, "I'm not staring at Malfoy!" insisted Harry.

"Potter!"

Harry turned to look at the origin of the voice, seeing Malfoy staring at him (for once not glaring), with Parkinson glancing annoyedly at everything but the trio.

Ron scowled, and Hermione hissed softly, but Harry did nothing but give a small nod, "Yes, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin smiled at him, although it looked more like a grimace, "Thank you," Malfoy spoke, each word delicately pronounced with elegance.

Harry quickly scrambled to figure out what Malfoy was saying thank you for, narrowing it down to two things, saving his life, or the basket of scones. "Er. You're welcome," Harry replied, hoping the response would work.

"I'd like to make a truce," the blond requested, as Parkinson sighed dramatically.

"Oh... Why?" Harry stuttered.

Malfoy groaned, "What do you mean why? I saved your life, you saved mine and then you gave me -" the blond then noticed the crowd he was attracting, "Please divert your attention away from me!" he called to the students watching, "I know it's going to be hard, as I am so attractive," Ron and Hermione scowled at each other, "But this is a private conversation!"

The kids looking turned to each other, but did nothing to stop watching. "I said this is a private conversation!"

They still continued to watch.

"Um," Harry stammered, "Please... go back to your conversations!" Although whispers began, all the kids turned away, giving the group a little privacy.

"So truce, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.

"Sure," Harry replied, "Er, yes." He saw Hermione scowl, but ignored it.

"Alright then," responded Malfoy, before turning away, skinny jeans, tattoos and all.

Parkinson glared at Harry, "I don't like this," she snarked, before twirling around and following after the other Slytherin. But Harry wasn't paying attention because he was not staring at Malfoy in his tight, tight jeans.

As the Slytherin duo left the building, the 'golden trio' turned back to each other, sipping their butterbeers.

"Harry?" Hermione demanded, "Why did you say yes? And what did he mean that you gave him something?"

The Gryffindor scowled, "I think it's about time that we got over our petty arguments, Hermione."

"But with him! He called me a... a mudblood, and he was a bully."

"And he constantly insulted my family," Ron interceded, "And poor people."

"That was in the past," protested Harry, "The war changed us all! Plus he's friends with Luna!" At that moment, Luna happened to skip past the restaurant, dragging Ginny behind her. The trio were able to see her through the window of the restaurant.

"Fine," gave up Hermione, and Harry wanted her to argue, like she would had before, "Just be careful."

"I will," Harry muttered, "Don't worry about me," he ducked his head, to cover his scar with his messy hair.

"It's our job to worry," sighed the curly hair girl, turning to her boyfriend and gripping his hand.

"And, mate? Don't become obsessed with him again," Ron mocked, "Once is enough."

"But I was right! He was a Death Eater!" Harry argued.

"Fine. Fine," Ron said, fake giving up, "You win this round, blast you."

/*/*/*/*/*/*

"You really ought to brush your, Potter, it's a fucking mess," Malfoy snobbed, finger tips brushing his own perfect hair.

"My hair is fine," The brunet protested, "Besides, there's nothing I can do to fix it!"

"Trust me, Potter," the blond said, walking through their bathroom door, "If anyone can do it," he returned with several bottles of who knows what, "I can."

"Malfoy-"

"Potter. Your hair is constantly messy and it bothers the hell out of me," he pushed Harry so the brunet was facing him, "Just be thankful I'm not doing your wardrobe, which is atrocious by the way, we'll have to fix that later."

"Malfoy-" Harry started before feeling the Slytherins elegant fingers brushing over his scalp. "Malfoy... is this really necessary?"

"You don't have to see yourself everyday, Potter. So yes, this is really necessary." His hands began putting a cool gel into Harry's long hair.

Soon silence occupied the room, the Gryffindor wanted to say something, but knew that if he tried, he would only embarrass himself. Malfoy's hands continued to smooth and brush through his hair, and Harry was finding very hard to concentrate.

"Merlin, Potter," Malfoy said, words the tiniest bit shaky, and if Harry was observant, he wouldn't had noticed, "Your hair is so fucking annoying, it doesn't cooperate at all."

"I told you, but you insisted. 'Potter! Potter! Your hair! Its so horrible. I don't know how I'm going to sur-"

"Shut up Potter! Your hair is horrible, and I thought we had a truce."

"We do have a truce. This is what friends do idiot."

"Normally I just tell my Slytherins what they do, and they do it."

"Malfoy, that is not friendship."

Malfoy changed the subject quickly, "So we're friends?"

"Well... um... we've been 'truced' for weeks," Harry stuttered, "So I'm pretty sure that's friends? I mean... if you want to be?"

"Will you do everything I say?"

"No!"

"Fine, friends."

"Why? I'm not going to do whatever you say."

"Call it morbid curiosity."

"Are you done with my hair yet?"

"Nearly."

Harry sighed, "Hurry up."

"I'm done. Merlin, Potter, someones impatient." Malfoy walked him into the bathroom, forcing him to look into the mirror. Harry's hair was slick back and neat, not a hair out of place.

"I-"

"I want to thank you, Draco, because you are so kind and amazing and fixed my hair and made me look like I didn't just get out of bed for the first time in forever!"

Harry continued to stare at himself, tugging on his sleeves, missing the warmth of Malfoy's hands. "T... Thanks."

Malfoy through up his hands, "Of course thats all I get. A thank you!"

"I'm sorry Malfoy, let me bow at your feet," replied Harry sarcastically as he brushed his hands softy over his organised hair.

Malfoy pushed him out the door, "Go! Go show off your hair! Get some ladies, and make sure to tell them who did your hair!"

"But-"

Malfoy cut him off, "I did not spend my precious time on your hair just for you to stay in here. Go!"

Harry sighed, "Fine," before slowly moping out of the room, making it known that he did not want to be doing this.

When he entered the common room, at first no one saw him but then Hermione called, "Harry! Your hair!"

"Credit to Malfoy!" A voice from within Harry's room said.

"You let Malfoy do your hair?" Ron asked.

Harry scratched his head. "Yeah?" he replied.

"Why?" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry crossed his arms, "I really didn't have choice-"

"You should be thanking me Granger! I did you a favour! Now it does hurt to look at him... as much."

"Malfoy! If you're going to yell out of your room, you should at least come out here!" Hermione yelled, as the Slytherin crawled out of the room.

"I'm sorry about your... your mum Malfoy," Ron said to the Slytherin awkwardly.

Immediately Malfoy's face went blank and dark, "I don't need your pity, after all, I have more money then all you and your family combined-"

"You don't need to be so rude, Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, gripping her boyfriends hand.

"Don't tell me what to do, you Mudblood-"

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted at the same time as Ron yelled:

"Don't speak to Hermione like that!" Ron made to move towards Malfoy, but Hermione pulled him back.

"If you are going to be rude, then you must leave," the Gryffindor girl growled.

"I was leaving anyway, your company makes me want to jump off the astronomy tower," The Slytherin replied hotly before twirling around, "See you around, Potter," He snobbed one last time before exiting the common room with a flourish.

"How are you friends with him?" sputtered Hermione.

"I honestly don't know," Harry responded.

"Wait you're friends with him?" Ron asked, "I thought it was just a truce?"

"Well obviously they've become friends," Hermione chided, "After all, Harry did let him do his hair."

"Even though he's a pompous asshole?" Ron exclaimed.

"Well maybe if you hadn't brought up his mother," Harry insisted, "he wouldn't have been so rude."

"So you're taking his side?" grumbled Ron, putting a protective arm around his girlfriend.

"I'm not taking anyone's side Ron!" shouted Harry.

"Can we all calm down please," Hermione pleaded, placing a hand on each boy's arm.

"Okay. Fine. I'm sorry, Harry, I just hate that bastard," Ron responded.

"Okay," repeated the brunet, before racing out of the room away from them. He couldn't do it. "Okay." He heard their murmurs as he ran, heard their pity and concern. He hated it. He ran to the Astronomy tower, hoping Malfoy wasn't there (and hoping he was at the same time).

As Harry ran, he heard that music again, coming from a mysterious room that didn't seem to exist. Once again, Harry stopped to listen, finding it enchanting and beautiful, almost siren like.

Instead of going to the tower like he had originally planned, he instead just sat down in the hallway and listened. The music was like emotion, it was so beautiful, Harry couldn't even begin to describe what it sounded like.


	6. Chapter Six

Hermione liked to think she was intelligent, in fact she knew she was. But Harry's and Draco's friendship was a complete mystery. After all, the two boys had hated each other for so long. Harry didn't even hate Voldemort as much as he hated the blond.

Hermione herself didn't hate Malfoy, strongly disliked him, sure, but she didn't hate him like Harry did. So seeing the two together, interacting without fighting, or even just arguing, was extremely odd, disturbing even.

A week after the whole 'mudblood' incident (honestly, Hermione didn't know how Harry could stand the Slytherin), Harry was still not talking to Malfoy. Although it seemed that it was bothering Harry more then it was Malfoy, as her friend seemed to have returned to his depressed state. With Malfoy around, Harry's twitch had disappeared, and his laugh was real. Harry seemed to be his pre-Voldemort self. Well, Malfoy had always been the only one to create such huge emotional changes in Harry, not even she and Ron could.

Head angled away from Malfoy, Harry would stare at him through the corner of his eyes, trying not to be obvious. Hermione noted that Harry was never more obvious then when he was trying not to be.

Harry was her best friend, and she thought she knew everything about him. She knew about how at first glance he seemed clumsy and insecure, but as you got to know him, there was a simple elegance to his every step. He thought about every outcome before he acted (except when someone was in danger, which was probably why he was in Gryffindor). So of course Hermione knew about Harry's obsession with Malfoy. The Slytherin had always been there since year one, not quite in the background (He would never allow himself to be a background character). Harry's obsession wasn't one sided however, Hermione assumed, as Malfoy had always gone out of his way to torment her poor friend.

Truth be told, Hermione was almost grateful for the git, as when Harry was down, so down not even Hermione or Ron could reach him, Malfoy would come around, make a few comments and the fire would come back to Harry's eyes. He would seemingly wake up, just to threaten (or act upon the threats) the blond. And even if it was just a brief moment, Harry would come back to them. That was the reason that Malfoy was still around, the reason that Hermione hadn't dealt with him earlier (although the punch in third year was pretty amazing).

Hermione maybe even respected Malfoy, as he was nearly as smart as her, and he forced Harry to study (Hermione had tried desperately, but Harry never listened). Sure, Malfoy was a right bastard, but he was intelligent, and had some good ideas. Hermione had even once considered what it would have been like if they had invited Slytherins to join Dumbledore's Army; Malfoy would have probably thought of more efficient ways to not get caught (if he didn't turn them in for personal gain).

So when the great Malfoy himself walked up to her in the common room, Hermione wasn't very surprised. The dark skinned girl put her book down, but kept her knees tucked up against her chest. "What do you want Malfoy?" she questioned, unable to keep a slight growl out of her voice.

The blond dipped his head, a sign of respect? "To..." He started, before scowling, "To apologise..." Hermione raised her eyebrows, "For calling you a, well you know."

"Can I ask you something Malfoy?" Hermione inquired, resting her legs down in a criss cross position. She looked up at the Slytherin from the white couch chair she sat on.

"Of course. Although I must tell you, I'm not available tonight, but tomorrow, if you can escape that horrid Weas-"

"No. I mean to ask you, your friend Zabini, would you ever dislike him because of skin colour?"

Malfoy looked positively shocked, "Just because he's black doesn't mean anything. Same with you!"

"Well, some people in the muggle world think people with darker skin are lesser, and should even be slaves."

"That's utterly ridiculous! You can't help your skin colour."

"Just like I can't help that my parents are muggles?" Hermione asked slyly.

The blond blushed, "That's different-"

"How?"

"Muggles hunted us, they killed us, just for having magic. And because halfbloods and mud- muggleborns are not nearly as powerful-"

"I'm not powerful? Harry's not powerful? Voldemort isn't powerful?"

Malfoy looked extremely uncomfortable, "As much as I'd like to have this debate," He composed himself, "I have places to be. Goodbye fair lady." He grabbed her hand, his slim fingers gripping hers, and bowed, kissing her hand.

"Malfoy-"

"Remember, that if you ever get bored of that ginger-"

"Never, at least never you," Hermione shooed him away, he did nothing but laugh carelessly before floating off.

Hermione turned back to her book, eyes skimming over the words but not really reading. Malfoy was extremely good at hiding his emotions, he'd cover everything up with a mask. But that was also how you knew something was wrong, Hermione thought, because the past week, with Harry not talking to the blond, he had acquired the mask, the same mask that adorned his face most of 6th year. Hermione reached the end of the page, and realised that she had no idea what she had just read.

A couple hours later a familiar voice spoke softly, "Mione'?"

She looked up, smiling, "Ron," scooting over on the small couch chair, she made room for her boyfriend. He sat down and Hermione scooted over again to make herself comfortable, until she was partially sitting on his lap, leaning back on his chest.

"You have that thinking look on your face," Ron said as he looked down at her. She looked back up at him, her head resting on his chest.

Hermione snuggled into him, his arm wrapping warmly around him. "Malfoy apologised to me. For calling me a Mudblood."

Ron grimaced, "I hate that word." He sighed, "At least he said sorry though."

"You know that whole what's the difference between race and blood status speech I have?" Hermione giggled, casting a nonverbal spell to keep her place in the book at the same time.

"Yeah, gave it to a couple first years didn't you?"

"I gave it to Malfoy!"

Ron burst into short laughs, which vibrated through his chest into Hermione. "What was his reaction?"

"His face got all red, and then he left abruptly and said he had places to be." Hermione laughed, "Serves him right, the prejudiced prat."

Ron stopped laughing, "He has changed though, hasn't he?" He looked down at Hermione again, in her soft sweater and light coloured jeans, "He apologised and isn't nearly as much as a git."

"Still a git."

"Still a git, but Harry's git. Harry's depressed again, now that they're ignoring each other."

"I don't think Harry stopped being depressed."

"But he was able to push it down when he was with Malfoy. You must have noticed that?"

"...Yes" Hermione said grudgingly.

"We need to get them to be friends again." Ron stated as Hermione sighed, "I don't like him too, but Harry needs him, for whatever reason."

"I know, I just wish I didn't know." Like she had said before, Hermione knew herself intelligent, but she didn't understand Harry and Malfoy. Not one bit.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Okay little authors note, sorry for it being in the middle of the chapter.

If you're wondering like who the narrater is, it's Harry, just occasional Draco and Hermione and maybe Ron. But the main one is Harry. Also, this a Drarry fic, not Dramione, so the whole interaction with hermione and draco was not romantic at all, which is why i added a lot romione. Kay just saying.

love you guys.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Harry was not moping. Harry was not a moper (Keep telling yourself that bud). No, Harry was not moping.

Okay, yes he was. But whatever. It didn't matter. Malfoy called her that word! No one calls Hermione that word. He hated that word (but he didn't hate Malfoy, oh no he didn't).

"Harry?" A whimsical voice appeared from behind the Gryffindor. "Your despros are back?"

He turned around, already knowing who it was, "Hi, Luna," He said awkwardly, "Is Ginny with you?"

She shook her head, "No, she's at quidditch." That's right, Ginny was playing seeker this year as he didn't want to. He loved the game, he loved the crowds cheering for Gryffindor, but he hated the crowds cheering for him, and he hated the other teams letting him win.

"Oh. Er..."

"Do you have more despros because of Draco? Because your not friends right now?"

"How do you know about that?"

"He told me. He was super sorry for calling Hermione that, by the way, he was just upset about his mum. And of course when he's upset he gets mean, he can't help it," The Ravenclaw glided towards the lake as she spoke, picking up a few rocks, before turning back to him abruptly, "I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."

"It's fine," Harry's inner instincts coming out.

"He said sorry to Hermione, did you know?" Instead of throwing the rocks like he thought she was going to, she instead pocketed them.

"He did?"

"Yeah, Yesterday I think."

"Luna?" She turned around at his call, "I have a question for you."

"Hmm?"

"What does he play?" Harry asked, "For you, I mean."

Luna smiled, "Oh, many things. The piano and the violin and the cello, but mainly the viola. He likes it best because it can go high but also low and deep. It's so very pretty."

"Thanks, Luna. I have to go now, sorry."

"It's fine. Bye. Oh, and your despros are starting to go away again."

Harry flicked the air in front of his head, "Are they?"

/*/*/*/*/*/*

The Gryffindor rushed up the Astronomy tower, only to find it empty. Heavy disappointment pressed against his chest. As he was about to leave, Malfoy appeared.

"Malfoy?"

"Potter."

"I heard you said sorry to Hermione?"

Malfoy brushed his hands through his hair, which Harry knew to be a sign of embarrassment (honestly, all one had to do was pay attention and you could learn anything [Oh, Harry, you know that's not it]). "But of course I did." (Another thing Malfoy did, he 'got' cocky when he was the opposite).

"Er... Good?" stuttered Harry, moving pas (the sign) and towards his regular standing place, which was right next to Malfoy's.

"Honestly Potter, we need to get you speech lessons." Malfoy muttered.

Harry looked down, there was a card, a muggle card. The queen of hearts? It was in the exact place he always stood when he came up here. Right by the opening in the tower, where he could lean against the railing and look out, the wind slapping his face. Malfoy however, sat on the ground a couple feet away from Harry's place, where he could still see out, but not get hit by the wind. "That's odd," Harry said.

"What's odd?" questioned Malfoy, turning to Harry, his loose blond hair shining in the soft sunlight. Malfoy was once again wearing skinny jeans, but a loose black sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His dark mark was black and ugly, and Harry was able to see the flowers up close. Each one had an intricate design, and Harry saw that each line was actually letters. Staining his eyes, Harry was able to read one, Colin Creevey. Slowly he realised that each line was the name of someone who died during the war. Harry wanted to do nothing more then grab the Slytherin's arm and read each name (It's not your fault Malfoy, don't punish yourself, it's my fault) but he resisted.

"The card," Harry indicated towards it.

"What card?" questioned Malfoy, confused.

"It's right there, Queen of Hearts," The Gryffindor reached out to grab it.

Malfoy thought out loud, "The Queen of Hearts?" Realisation hit him. He jumped towards Harry, "HARRY NO!"

Harry's fingers brushed the card, ever so softly.

And everything went white.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANGST at the beginning

Freak.

You're nothing but a freak.

Freak!

Go into your cupboard now!

Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak! Freak!

Cedric is there now, "Why Harry? Why couldn't you save me? Why did you kill me? You killed me, Harry. You killed me. Why? Why? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?

Why did you kill me?"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stop.

Please.

PLEASE STOP!

"You should have known it was a trick, Harry," Sirius said, voice disappointed and empty, "You're so stupid. IT WAS A TRICK! You killed me. It's your fault. It's your fault that I'm dead. It's your fault. I'm dead because of you. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead."

Please...

"Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead .Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead."

PLEASE!

"Hullo Harry," says Fred, blood dripping down his head, his eyes glazed over and unseeing, "I see you're alive. And I'm not. I was fighting for you Harry, I was fighting because YOU told me to. I died because of you. My family lost me because of you. My mum. GEORGE!" He's shouting now. "YOU MADE ME LEAVE MY OTHER HALF. MY TWIN!" Tears run down both their faces, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! "

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault .Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

Harry hears faint laughing.

"HARRY!"

Remus is there, "First you kill Sirius," He droops, "And then you kill Tonks. And me of course. DO YOU HAVE TO KILL EVERYONE I LOVE!? I was your friend. AND YOU BETRAYED ME! My son is an orphan because of you. I have no idea why we made you the godfather because you are WORTHLESS" His face is stained and red, as Tonks appears behind him. She changes into him.

"Hiya Harry! Guess what I am? You're worst fear! It's you!" She mocks, "You're so pathetic that you're scared of yourself. You. Are. Pathetic. You can't even die properly!" She changes back to her regular pink haired self, "But yet you can kill so many people."

PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC. PATHETIC-

NO!

Please... Stop...

Laughing. Laughing.

GET IN THE CUPBOARD! FREAK! WORTHLESS FREAK!

So hungry. Can I have some food please Uncle Vernon?

NO!

PLEASE STOP!

FREAK!

So hungry hungry.

They all surround him, all of the dead. "Why? Freak! Your fault! Why? Why? WHY?! (You're fault) FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!"

Please!

Black.

Hermione and Ron stand there. "We were never really your friends, Dumbledore paid us. And when you weren't there we would laugh. We would laugh at you Potter. Poor Potter with all those problems." They say, laughing, "We never cared about you. You're alone. Alone. YOU'RE ALONE! Freak. You're alone because your a freak."

"No one loves you Harry," They whisper.

So alone.

"Potter," drawls Malfoy, "Did you honestly think I could ever like you? Let alone love you?" He crosses his arms, the dark mark empty of flowers. "News Flash Potter, I couldn't care less about you. I don't even hate you! I just. Don't. Care.

You should honestly go die! You have no one. And you certainly don't have me. You're just a depressed freak. A freak who cuts themselves because 'it makes it better'. Honestly who the fuck does that? A freak, that's who!"

No.

"No? Whatever, I don't care. Freak!"

NO!

"HARRY!"

Forest, dark forest. And a grinning face. She looks insane. Her face is covered with blurry scars. Hearts?

"HARRY! NO! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

"Dra...co..."

"HARRY?!"

"Not today Mr. Potter!" High pitched voice.

"No... please... not again..."

"Oh, yes again! You have such a fun mind. Never have I seen someone so messed up."

"Please!"

"HARRY!"

Green forest. Dark. Mysterious.

"Legilimens!"

NO!

[Show me the stone! Potter!]

The stone?

Oh.

The stone.

Walking through the woods towards his doom. "Until the very end," Says his dad. Harry smiles, holding the small stone in his hand. It's black and small.

[Good...]

"AVADAKEDAVRA!"

Out of his hand. It fell out of his hand. Into a bush? Buried in the dirt? Who knows.

"Is my son? Draco? Is he okay?"

"Yes.."

"DEAD!"

Cheering.

"HARRY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Draco?" Harry croaks.

"SHUT UP!" Their kidnapper screamed, theres a flash and then Draco screamed.

"DRACO!" Harry shouted as loudly as he can.

"Be quiet Potter, I won't kill him or you if you corporate with me." Her hair is smooth and black and her face... her face is covered in heart shaped scars. She looked completely insane.

"You want the stone?" Harry growled.

"I can bring him back!"

"I don't know where it is!"

Harry can see properly now. They're in a forest, pine trees surround them. Harry glances around and sees Malfoy tied to a tree, slumped. Harry is also tied to a tree, but could almost reach his wand.

"I'LL KILL YOU! TELL ME NOW!"

'I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS!"

"CRUCIO!"

Harry's body jerked, and he screamed as thousand of needles and knives stabbed his body.

"Harry..." croaked the blond.

"NO! I DON'T KNOW! I'M TELLING YOU I DON'T KNOW!" He roared as pain erupted through his body over and over again.

"Maybe," Pondered the lady, "If I torture him-"

"No!"

"Take that as a yes then! CRUCIO!" She screamed, head thrown back as she laughed.

Malfoy's body jerked and he screamed. Harry would gladly be tortured for a hundred years then to see Malfoy being tortured for one more second. Malfoy's usually beautiful face was ugly and bloody, twisted up in agony.

"NO! FINE! PLEASE JUST STOP!"

Malfoy's face relaxed as the curse lifted. The insane woman turned back to him, "Do go on, dear!"

"I threw it into the lake! The lake at Hogwarts!" Harry screamed, lying through his teeth, "Please just don't hurt him!"

The lady laughed! And squealed in delight. While she was distracted, Harry strained to reach his wand. Gripping the handle, he quietly broke the ropes tying him up.

The lady turned to him in surprise. "You-"

"CRUCIO!" He screamed, thriving on the pain she was feeling, she deserved it.

"Harry!" He heard from behind him, "Harry! Stop! I'm the evil one not you!"

"Draco?" asked Harry, feeling the wildness in his eyes go down.

"Just free me! And let's go back!"

Harry turned around, and muttered a quick spell to undo Draco's ropes.

"Shouldn't of turned your back on me!" A high pitched voice squealed.

"AVADA-"

Harry jumped towards the Slytherin, gripped his shirt and willed himself to Hogwarts.

Once again everything went white.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Hermione was nervous. Harry had been gone for hours, it was nearly sundown, as Luna's paintings suggested. She and Ron were waiting in the common room for him, but he was still nowhere to be found.

"Should we go tell the Headmistress?" She asked.

"If he doesn't show up tomorrow for classes, then we go tell," replied Ron, "For all we know, he could be shagging some girl."

"Right..." said Hermione, thinking of how often Harry looked at girls, compared to how often he looked at Malfoy. "Have we seen Malfoy?"

"Um.. No? Why?"

"No reason, just wondering." Hermione tucked her hands into her sleeves. She had a gut feeling that something was wrong.

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Unfortunately, they didn't end up at Hogwarts, but instead ended up in a different part of the forest. Hopefully. Everything was just green pine trees so they couldn't really tell.

He turned to Draco (could he call him Draco now?), "What happened?"

Draco looked up at him from where he was sitting on the ground panting, "The card, it was a portkey (kill the spare) to some forest. And then that woman, Hearts, was there and she knocked us out and tied us to the trees. When I woke up she was in your mind." Draco gripped Harry's pant leg, "She kept laughing, and saying things like, 'My my, how messed up this boy is, or Freak. And I kept screaming to try to get you to wake up, and then she'd crucio me."

Harry could do nothing but gape, trying not to remember what he saw while she was in his mind.

"Why'd I have to be friends with you Potter! You just screw everything up!"

Harry put his head between his knees, "I'm sorry," He stuttered.

Draco (MALFOY!) shook his head, "It's not your fault, I was being sarcastic. Still friends, don't worry your pretty head about it. You can still bask in my presence!"

Laughing darkly, Harry spotted his wand. "Shit!"

"What?"

"My wand's broken!"

Draco groaned, "I don't have my wand! We're screwed!"

"We have to get back with out magic then," decided Harry.

"How?"

Harry looked over at the blond, "Unlike you, I've gone with out magic before, eleven years and every summer after in fact."

"Merlin bless our Hero then," Grumbled Malfoy.

Harry smirked, "You know it."

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Unfortunately, no matter how much the brave Gryffindor tried, it was seemingly impossible to make the situation positive. They were in the middle of the woods who knows where, with no magic, and no supplies. And it was beginning to get dark. And cold.

"Malfoy," Harry said, "We need to make shelter for tonight." Harry started to collect large sticks as Malfoy groaned and moped dramatically. "Come on! I need help."

Surprisingly, Draco (MALFOY, HARRY) was actually really good a making shelters. (It's common sense Potter, you just don't have any.) Unfortunately they're shelter was between to trees, and their only cover was the leaves stacked on top of the branches above them. However, it was pretty good for considering what they had.

The two boys tried to fall asleep, breathing in the scents of the forest. The musky pine smell and the sound of a nearby creak were so peaceful, they were nearly enough to make Harry fall asleep. But Harry couldn't help but stare up at the roof, and the stars he could see through the small cracks, while he shivered.

And shivered.

Suddenly there was an arm around him, pulling him close to the warm body of Draco Malfoy.

"What?" He asked stupidly.

"You're shivering like a fucking mad man," scolded Malfoy, "And I'm trying to fall asleep. But alas, I'm also super fucking cold! And then I thought of a brilliant yet shitty idea: Body Heat." (Note to self: Draco swore when he was tired)

Malfoy tightened the arm that was looped around Harry's neck and Harry threw an arm around Draco's waist. He breathed in Draco's breath as the blond slowly breathed in and out in sleep.  
Harry shouldn't have been so warm as he was.  
And it wasn't because of body heat.

Had you told him a day ago that'd he'd be cuddling with Draco Malfoy in the middle of the woods, he wouldn't have believed you. Had you told him a year ago, he would've punched you. How times change.

Slowly Harry succumbed to sleep, in the middle of the woods who knows where, in a make do fort with leaves for a roof, the Slytherin's arm still wrapped around him and their ankles intertwined. Draco breathed annoyingly into Harry's neck. Harry was the most comfortable he had ever been in his life.

Freak

/*/*/*/*/*

Hermione couldn't fall asleep. Something was wrong. Deadly wrong. She just needed to find out what.


	8. Chapter Eight

"You are worthless Potter," says dream Draco. He's wearing his usual smirk, skinny jeans and tight shirt and all. He stands with his hands in his pockets, confident poise, "Nobody cares about you, I certainly don't." He leans over Harry, puts one hand in Harry's hair and the other tilts his chin up, "I don't even hate you, I just couldn't care less," He then sits on Harry's lap (Harry's sitting bound to a chair), face inches from Harry's. The arrogant blond blows onto Harry's lips, breath minty, "But you care about me! It's so obvious, that's why I keep you around, you know, so I can make fun of you. It's hilarious, perfect Potter, in love with me! A death eater."

One of his hands finds Harry's chest, and the soft blond hair brushes against Harry's face. "You're turned on right now? Aren't you? Pathetic," The Slytherin laughs, "You're so pathetic, it's hilarious!" Draco twists in his lap purposely, and Harry strains against his binds and screams through his gag. "You're in love with a death eater! You know you can't change me. You think I regretted it, don't you?" Draco's other hand trails down Harry's shoulder, leaving Harry tingling. It stops to join the other hand on Harry's chest, "I loved it! I loved their screams... I loved how they twisted up in pain, I loved how their voices broke so they couldn't scream anymore; when I tortured them. I'd go out of my way to do it too, anytime the Dark Lord brought someone in, I'd be first to raise my hand. You know what I mean, don't you, because you're a monster too. You tortured Hearts, and you enjoyed it."

The blond removes Harry's gag, "You're a monster," and before he can say anything in reply, Draco presses his lips softly to Harry's. Harry knows it isn't Draco, but he can't help it, he kisses back, rough and desperate, feeling cold and warm all over. "Pathetic," murmurs other Draco, before leaning back down, wrapping an arm around Harry's neck and snogging him fiercely, their tongues pressing against each other. They twist around in some sort of dance, barely pausing for breath. Then suddenly the Slytherin leans back, Harry tries to reach forwards for him, but is denied, "Say you're worthless, Potter, say it." The brunet's face drops, and Draco laughs, "I don't need to force you," He leans forwards again and Harry pushes himself away, trying to resist, "Because you already know you are." He kisses Harry again, murmuring against Harry's lips, "You're worthless." One quick kiss, "Pathetic." Two quick kisses, "No one cares about you!" Three quick kisses, "A monster." One long kiss, "Who killed so many people-"

"Potter!"

"You're nothin-"

"HARRY!"

Harry woke up with a start, "What?!" He looked around frantically, why was everything green? Why was Malfoy nex- then everything from yesterday rushed back to him. "Oh," he said softly.

"You were having a nightmare," muttered the Slytherin, brushing his hands through his hair in attempt to organise it, "Bloody woke me up too."

The brunet blushed, and got up quickly, trying to put some distance between them, "Sorry." Oh Merlin, his nightmare. He was not remembering the feeling of Draco's lips on his. Stop thinking about it! He screamed to himself. Getting a boner in the middle of the woods would not be a good idea.

"You should feel sorry," Draco gibed, stretching his arms, resembling a cat. (Note on Draco 57: When he's sarcastic about something somewhat serious , he actually means the opposite). Also, Harry totally didn't keep mental notes about Draco. Okay, yes he did, but only like 300 hundred of them. He couldn't help it, know thy enemy after all.

Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, "What do we do now?"

The brunet suddenly felt a crushing weight on his chest, Draco was relying on him to get them out of the woods, but he had no idea what direction Hogwarts was in, "Um... We should find a tall tree?"

"A tall tree?" Scoffed the Slytherin, crossing his arms.

"To you know... climb and then see if we can spot the castle," Act confident Harry, then you'll be confident, thats what Sirius had always said.

Draco lifted one perfect brow, but nodded, "I'm sure climbing trees is exactly what we need to do in this situation." That meant he agreed.

"Okay good. So, um, off to find a tall tree?"

The blond laughed softly, smirk gone. Harry felt himself start a bit, because when that awful git wasn't scowling or smirking, he actually looked sweet? Innocent? "Stop looking like the Weaslette just put your dick in certain places. There's a tall tree to be found!"

"Hey!"

The blond started walking in a random direction, "Hey what?" He turned around grinning, "It's what you looked like."

"We're not together anymore," Harry called out to him, "She's with Luna!"

The blond stopped suddenly, "You're not?" (Did he look happy?) "That actually explains a lot. No wonder Luna talked about her so much." Harry runs to catch up, nearly tripping on a root, "You should of heard her, 'Ginny's so lovely, Draco! I'd think you'd really like her, if you got over the whole Po-"

"Po?" questioned Harry, feeling hopeful.

"Got over poo," replied Draco lamely, waving a hand dismissively, "You know Luna, so weird."

Harry nodded, feeling a smile etch onto his face, "Got over poo, makes total sense."

"Shut up, Potter. Nobody cares about your opinion." (That means he did).

"So sorry."

"Merlin, Potter, can't you just let a man look at the scenery in peace!"

"So. Sorry" Harry whispered mockingly. He heard the blond breath in sharply, but Draco didn't respond. Truth be told, Harry could stare at the 'scenery' all day, and understood why Draco wanted to look at it, as the tall straight pine trees were very 'Slytherin'. Each step they took made no sound, as they stepped on the soft moss or the dark dirt. And the trees, the trees were gorgeous. They were straight and confident, their huge branches letting only gold streams of sunlight through. Harry half expected a fairy (The muggle fairies, not the real ones) to appear out of no where. The setting was like one that you'd see in a book.

They continued to walk in silence, able to walk nearly straight as the trees were big and far apart. Suddenly, "I hate silence." (New Note #367: Hates silence), "When it's with other people, when your by yourself it's fine, but with other people I just hate it." (Add to not #367: Hates silence with other people. New note #368: Likes silence when by himself).

"Oh?" Harry replied, not knowing what to say.

"I also hate one word answers, unless it's me, cause it pisses people off." Of course, "Actually I trade mark one word answers, so every time you use one, you owe me..." he thought, "Ten galleons!"

"What?" Harry sputtered.

"Ten galleons."

"But!"

"Twenty galleons!"

"Stop-"

"Thirt-"

"IT! You're just cutting me off! It's not fair at all!"

The blond turned to him, giggling.

"If you got over poo," reminds Harry.

Draco ceased giggling, "You swore you would never bring that up!"

"I did no such thing!"

Suddenly he had a stick at his neck, and the blond is inches away from him, "Then swear it now," he hissed.

The blond removes Harry's gag, "You're a monster," and before he can say anything in reply, Draco presses his lips softly to Harry's. Harry coughs awkwardly, before narrowing his eyes. "Never."

The stick presses farther into Harry's neck, posing no threat what so ever. "Now!"

Suddenly, Harry grabs the stick, flips Draco around and presses him against a tree, stick against the Slytherin's throat. "What were you saying?" Harry smirked cockily. The Slytherin doesn't say anything, his pale lips partly spread and hair messed up. "Hmm?" Harry provoked.

Draco fake coughed, "Personal," cough, "Space." He struggled against the slightly taller boy.

Harry let go reluctantly, "Sorry."

"It's absolutely not fine, I was viciously attacked by you!" complained the other boy, a slight pant in his voice.

"Sorry!" Harry replied sarcastically.

"Shut up Potter," Draco said while straightening out his hair, "I need to find us a tall tree!"

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Hermione was officially terrified. Breakfast was nearly over and Harry still had yet to return. "Ron?"

"I know 'mione," He replied, "We should go up to Mcgnagall's now." Pushing his dinner away from him, he started to get up, but Hermione pulled on his sleeve.

"What about breakfast?" She asked, finding it hard to believe Ron would skip breakfast.

He down at her confused, "Harry's missing! We should know by now that's always bad! Some Death Eater probably grabbed him!"

She stood up to join him, "You said yourself that he could be shagging some girl."

The ginger laughed darkly, "With the way he looks at Malfoy?"

Hermione jerked, "You guessed too?"

"I'm not an complete idiot, I know my best friend," convinced Ron, "I don't like it, but it's been like that since first year."

"What about Ginny? And Cho?" questioned Hermione, as they slowly walked out of the great hall to the Headmistress's office.

"I do think he liked them, but he's just Malfoysexual."

Hermione reached for his hand, "Or bisexual."

"Bisexual? Pansexual? Maybe. But definitely Malfoysexual-"

"I don't like it."

"I don't like it either, but I don't think we can do anything about it."

When they finally reached Mcgnagall's office, Hermione felt that familiar rush of panic. "Lemondrops?" she guessed. The gargle statues did nothing to move. "Dumbledore?" Creaking, the statues seemed to stare at the two, judgemental, as they shifted, forming the staircase.

The couple stepped onto the steps, recalling how often they had did this before, to see Dumbledore about something or other, but now Dumbledore was dead.

As they reached the top, Hermione felt her heart beat faster, as the room had completely changed. Instead of the mess it had been before, it was neat and orderly, much like the Headmistress herself. She breathed in deeply, preparing for what was to follow.

The stern face of Mcgnagall slowly appeared, her dark green ropes and hat accenting her grey hair. "Yes, Granger and Weasley?"

"Harry's missing," started Ron.

"No surprise there," a nasally voice said from one of the portraits.

"Snape!" Ron shouted-

Their old professor glared at Ron with her usual steely gaze, quickly shutting him up, "When was the last you saw him?" Ron tried to ignore the greasy smile from his old professor.

This time Hermione replied, "Yesterday afternoon. We know that's not long but with Harry..."

Mcgnagall cocked her head to the side, much like a cat, "Of course you have a right to be worried. We will look into it. Have you used your... map?"

Of course Hermione had thought of that, but ever since Remus had died, the map seemingly shut down, with the words Mischief Managed permanently etched onto it, "It doesn't work anymore."

The Headmistress raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? Well, go to your class. We'll look into it."

As they walked out of the room, Hermione called out in thanks, but the Headmistress already seemed occupied talking to the portraits that adorned the room.

"Do you think they'll do anything?" questioned Ron, turning to his girlfriend.

Hermione looked back at him, "We just have to trust them."

/*/*/*/*/*/*

"I think I found one," Pointed out Harry, looking to a tall, but climbable tree.

Draco collapsed dramatically onto Harry, "Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry replied as he brushed the blond off of him. Calmly, the brunet looked up at the tree, with it's towering trunk and thick branches. "Are you coming, or are you staying here?"

The Slytherin's face was paler then usual, and his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously, "Of course, what kind of coward do you take me for?"

"You don't have to..."

"Why wouldn't I?" quavered Draco, reaching up for the first branch. Harry noticed the shake in Draco's arm, but opted to not say anything now. He'd ask later.

Harry reached up and pulled himself onto the first branch, "Okay," He looked down at the boy below him, who was staring up at him trying to be confident.

"Thirty Galleons!"

"Go fuck yourself Malfoy," Harry replied as he grabbed a branch above him and placed his foot on another.

When he turned around, Draco was inches away from him, one branch below. "No thanks Potter, I usually have someone do it for me."

Breathing in, Harry tried to control himself (Controlling himself from what, Harry didn't know), "You cocky little bastard."

Draco raised one eyebrow, their faces so close, Harry could practically feel it, "Interesting choice of words," he purred.

Harry felt like punching him, or kissing him, he didn't know which one would be more enjoyable. "Fuck off Malfoy," he reached up for another branch, only to find the branch covered with sticky sap.

"Again with the kink- YOU ASSHOLE! GET THAT OFF OF ME!" Draco's eyes widened in disgust, "WHAT EVEN IS THAT?"

Laughing, Harry spoke somewhat mockingly, "Pine tree sap, the stickiest of them all."

Suddenly Harry felt a sharp pain in his stomach, "Fuck you, Potter," hissed Draco.

Once again, Harry did nothing but laugh, "Now who's getting kinky?"

When Draco punched him again, Harry did nothing to dodge, and laughed again when Draco muttered, "You're lucky I need you to survive," The blond started climbing again, this time intentionally away from Harry, "By the way, if we can't find food, we're eating you first."

"Good thing we're not going to run out of food then."

"I might eat all the food intentionally!"

"You really wanna eat me that much?" chuckled Harry, "OW!"

"You deserved that pinecone you git!"

Now filled with motivation, Harry scrambled up the tree to try and catch the other boy. Upon seeing this, Draco climbed smoothy and fast, but alas, the Gryffindor was faster. They had nearly reached the top of the tree when Harry caught up to Draco, he pinned him against the tree, allowing the blond to hold onto some branches however. "I am I still a git?"

Draco glared at him, "You're always a git."

"Prat," Harry replied, suddenly realising how intimate their situation was, but he did nothing to move. Their shallow breaths intertwined, Don't think of the dream!

"Ass-" Suddenly the branch Harry was standing on broke, "HARRY!"

Unable to anything but hang desperately onto the two branches he had in a death grip, he looked at Draco, "I need your help." Harry wanted to let go, he wanted to just fall and fall and fall until he hit the ground. But the horror on the other boy's face forced Harry to continue gripping.

"W... what?" stammered Draco.

"Ten Galleons."

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME!"

"Sorry. I need you to move to the other side of the tree, so I can swing over to where your standing."

The blond looked down, and gulped, "Merl... Merlin... We're high up."

Harry felt his arms weakening, "Draco, if you don't do this, I will die."

Draco look away from the ground (the far far away ground), to Harry, eyes holding nothing but fear, "Good?"

"Draco!"

"Fine! I can do it. What do you think I am? Scared of heights? Malfoy's aren't scared of anything..."

It was beginning to become hard to keep holding on, "Draco, now!" The blond started muttering to himself, and slowly moved from branch to branch, hand's shaking. With the space vacated, Harry swung, and was able to place one foot down. Slowly, he steadied himself.

"Harry?" Questioned the Slytherin from the other side of the tree.

"I'm fine!"

"Come over here! I see something!"

Harry quickly scampered around the tree, to wear the other boy was white knuckling the branches. "Where?"

The blond nodded his head forwards, "There."

Searching out whatever Draco saw, he spotted a small village. It seemed to be about seven miles to the west? Harry couldn't really tell. He turned back to the Slytherin, who's eyes were filled with panic. "Look how pretty the scenery is?" He tried to help. His statement was true of course, as the tree they had climbed towered above the others, and they could see over the tops of millions of trees. They seemed to be standing above a sea green, and Harry wanted to do nothing more then dive in and drown. But no, he wouldn't.

"The scenery?" chocked Draco.

"I mean, look at the clouds!" The clouds were puffy and twisted, much like a frayed rope. With the sun shining softly over everything, Harry once again felt like he was in a fairy tale.

"The clouds?!" repeated Draco.

The other boy looked as if he was about to pass out, "Should we go down now?" Harry asked.

Draco turned to him frantically, "Yes!" he practically screamed. (He soon discovered climbing down a tree was much harder then climbing up).

/*/*/*/*/*

The rest of the day was spent walking until the sunset, and they couldn't use it to figure what direction to walk (The sun set on the west, so they just followed it). The two boys bickered and argued and dare he say it, flirted (Get over yourself Harry. Even if Draco wasn't straight, he'd never like someone as worthless as you).

And at the end of they day, when they made another shelter, they wrapped their arms around each other, no awkward fumbling like before.

Even if Harry's nightmares didn't go away, even if Harry's depression wasn't gone, Harry felt the happiest he had been for a while. Who knew Draco Malfoy would be the one to make Harry happy again?

Draco murmured against Harry's cheek, and Harry allowed himself to fall asleep.

Being kidnapped had never been so fun.

(Oh, and Harry hadn't regretted torturing Hearts, he was a monster. Dream Draco had been right about one thing. Harry didn't enjoy torturing her, but he didn't feel bad whatsoever. Saying Draco was bad, saying he was a worse person then Harry would be terribly inaccurate. Harry knew that Draco could never hurt anyone seriously, not even an animal, because, although he'd never tell anyone, Harry had seen Draco running down a hallway crying over a dead bird in 6th year. Harry also knew he himself was a monster, but he was a controlled monster, and he would never hurt anyone innocent.

He would never hurt Draco.

But he would hurt anyone who did.)

/*/*/*/*/*/*

Also, when Harry and Draco were in the tree together and Draco wasn't scared of heights, it was because he was focusing on Harry, not how high he was. Just wanna clear that up. Also, I don't have any fear of heights, so did I write that accurately?

And Harry's sexuality in this story is never really decided officially, in my mind he's Malfoysexual, but if you want an actual sexuality, then he's either bi or pan. Draco's fully gay btw

Please tell me what you think, or if you have any suggestions!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> super super angsty, and a little triggering, you don't have to read it, i'll explain what happened next chapter

Hey guys! Okay this chapter gets very angsty, and there is direct descriptions of cutting. You don't have to read this chapter! Next chapter I publish, i will explain what happened in this chapter so it still makes sense. Don't feel you have to read this chapter, if you think it will trigger you, don't read it. Stay safe please 3. I will also mention when the descriptions stop so you if you want to read the action parts you can.

/*/*/*/*/*

Every since the war, and even before, Harry had been depressed. Every single death felt like an elephant on his chest. Imagine you had like 20+ elephants standing on top of you, and thats what Harry felt constantly; it was a wonder he got up in the morning. At first, Harry had just felt guilty, guilty and mad. Why did life have to screw him over? Because he deserved it? And then he would have crowds of people surrounding him, thanking him, asking him for a photo or a signature, and he wouldn't feel proud or annoyed, he would feel nothing. He would feel empty.

Harry wanted to feel something, he wanted to feel something so desperately that he hurt himself. First he went to muggle fights. He find gang fights or street fights and he would join. A little known fact about Harry: He loved to get punched.

Harry would lose on purpose. He would let them throw their pathetic little fists at his face, barely giving him a bruise. Every once in a while there would be someone, usually a sharp sarcastic little blond, that would give him a little fire, and he'd pummel them. He nearly killed someone at those fights:

"Little faggot aren't you," Mocked the blond he was supposed to be fighting. He looked up, not feeling a thing, "Can't even fight," A fist connected with his face. It wasn't enough, it was never enough. The blond backed him up against a wall, a dirty grimy wall, he could feel it on his bare back. The blond stroked his stomach, running a calloused finger between the lines of his muscles, and then he punched him there. Hard. And Harry felt it. As he doubled over in pain, Harry felt that fire.

The nameless blond jerked Harry's head up by his hair, and pushed his entire body on to Harry's. The crowd watching wolf whistled, and the blond encouraged by this, kissed Harry roughly. Harry reacted immediately, punching the blond in the face. He grabbed the other boy by his waist and switched positions with him. Lifting the blonds hands above his head with one hand, he pummelled the other boys stomach with his other. Each punch caused the muggle to gasp in pain. His pale lips were open in shock. This wasn't the right boy, this wasn't the person.

Harry punched and punched, until the blond boys pale stomach was black and blue. The crowd wasn't cheering anymore, they were watching with sick fascination. The Gryffindor decided to give them a show, and he pushed the blond to the ground, He punched the muggle in the face, the dirty little muggle (The wrong boy), "Who's the faggot now?" he asked. The blond's nose was dripping blood, his mouth red and wrong. Harry couldn't stop, he punched and punched and punched. The crowd was screaming for him to stop, but he couldn't. He felt hands tugging and pulling at his sweaty back and chest. It was no use, he wasn't stopping. He couldn't stop.

Sirens.

Harry looked up and there was the muggle police, and they were pointing a gun at him. The cocky little blond was gasping for breath. BOOM!

He had never heard a gunshot before, except when Dudley watched TV. It was a lot louder then you'd expect, Harry's ears near burst. And his arm, his arm was in so much fucking pain. He looked down to see a red bubbling hole.

"RAISE YOUR HANDS!" The muggle police shouted. Harry looked down at the near dead blond, kissed him harshly, and apparated away, arm still dripping blood. 

He looked at the mirror in his bathroom, looked at the gunshot in his arm. It had gone clean through, and it hurt so fucking much. He didn't go to the hospital, no he took a hot shower. After all, he was covered in sweat and dirt. The entire time, his arm screamed in pain.

Harry smiled.

He didn't have to go to fights anymore; no. He could make himself feel things. First, he needed another razor.

Cutting, thats what he did. He knew it was bad, he knew it was a horrible, depressing thing to do. He didn't care, because when he cut, he felt something. When he pressed that blade deep into his skin, he felt it, it was the only thing he could feel. Those not so little red lines were his salvation. Those mountains of skin were his freedom.

But the thing is, once the pain stopped, he would feel more empty, and he would hate himself for going to such measures. So he cut himself more, to make it go away.

He became addicted.

One summer was all it took for nearly his entire body to be covered with little red lines.

Harry stopped smiling, there was nothing to smile about. Harry stopped laughing, people were dead, why should he laugh? Harry stopped eating, food made him sick.

Harry started drinking, drank the emptiness away (it wasn't as good as cutting, but he'd be in pain the next morning). One night he had a drink too many, and when he woke up, he was in an unfamiliar bed with a random blond. A boy. A boy who kissed his cuts, and told him they were sexy; he apparated away. His cuts were not sexy, they were disgusting.

All summer, he found himself in random people's beds, sometimes girl's, sometimes boy's. He hated himself for it. (The boys were all pale and blond. The girls were always red heads.) He began to want to die, because those people were never enough. Everything was never enough. Not even cutting, because the things he felt were only temporary.

The one thing that stopped him from cutting the wrong way was his friends. He couldn't do that to them, they had already lost so much. Ron and Hermione tried to help, they'd come over nearly every day, but there was nothing to be done.

Harry was too fucked up.

Harry was a junkie.

And he was too far gone.

triggering stuff mostly stops here

But here he was, in the middle of the woods with Draco fucking Malfoy, feeling things. Good things. His depression, or whatever you wanted to call it, hadn't disappeared, it was still there looming over him. But he only had 15 elephants now, he felt lighter. It was also heavier, because he might have been falling in love with Draco fucking Malfoy.

Malfoy was a sarcastic bastard, who was snobby as hell. He was prejudiced and mean and a generally horrible person. But he was always there for Harry, usually in a Negative way. When everyone was treating Harry like glass, Malfoy had been there to insult him, to make him feel normal.

Malfoy made him feel fire, the fire he was so desperate for. Malfoy made him feel things nobody else could make him feel, not even Ginny or Voldemort. Harry had hated Malfoy a billion times more then he hated Voldemort, to the point where he shot an unknown curse at him (Harry wouldn't even shoot a killing curse at Voldemort).

Perhaps it was expected that Harry was falling in love with the git. Life seemed to hate Harry like that.

"Pen for your thoughts?" he heard Malfoy - Draco - ask.

"You mean penny?"

Draco blushed, "Muggle saying make no sense anyway."

Harry laughed (HE FUCKING LAUGHED IT WAS A MIRACLE), "They don't unless you grow up with them."

"So why were you so quiet?" Draco inquired again.

Looking back at the other boy, Harry replied, "Thinking about this summer."

Draco's face darkened, last summer was not kind to him apparently, "About the trial?"

Oh, the trial. Harry had tried to push that out of his mind. He hated it because of how pathetic Draco had looked. Draco was supposed to look elegant and strong and snobby, not like he had.

"Next speaking on behalf of Draco Malfoy; Harry Potter." Gasps of shock echoed throughout the trial hall. It was a well known fact that the two boys hated each other. Harry stepped behind the platform, and quickly swallowed his veritaserum. "Once again, Malfoy's charges are:" the judge coughed, "Aiding he who shall not be named, torture and murder of muggles, trying to assassinate Dumbledore, and simply being a Death Eater."

"Harry James Potter, do you believe this man to be guilty?"

Harry looked down at Malfoy, at his dirty face and his pathetic eyes. He looked so defeated, but he guessed a month in Azkaban can do that to you. Was Malfoy innocent? Probably not, but was he guilty? No, he wasn't guilty. He was forced to do those things because if not, he would be killed.

"No." He said, looking away from the Slytherin.

"Why do you think he isn't guilty?"

"Because if he didn't do these things, he and his family would be killed, besides, when he did these things he was underaged."

They were all biased against the blond, Harry knew this, he would try to be more convincing. "So you admit he did these things?"

"I would have done the same had I been in his situation."

"He is a Death Eater though, he has a dark mark-"

"He was forced-"

"Forced? Please continue."

Harry looked down at the blond again, not wanting to admit he saw Malfoy receive the dark mark through his and Voldemort's connection. "I saw it." Immediately havoc began, almost everyone in the court began talking and whispering to each other. The judge banged on the desk, which did nothing to quiet people down. Finally, he whistled loudly. The talking ceased.

"Please explain, Potter."

"Voldemort," everyone flinched, "Was in my mind you know, so I saw him receiving the mark through a vision. He was forced, if he hadn't gotten it, both him and his family would have been killed."

The judge turned to Malfoy, "Is this true?"

Malfoy was staring at Harry, shocked at this revelation. Looking back up to the judge, he rasped, "Yes." Harry near slapped someone, Malfoy was not allowed to sound like this, so empty and defeated. Malfoy was supposed to be icy and sarcastic and snobby, not depressed and done.

"You also say you were there when he tried to kill Dumbledore, is this true?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?"

Harry's mind went back to that horrible night, "He disarmed Dumbledore, but didn't kill him. Dumbledore talked to him, asked him to join his side. Malfoy said that he couldn't, because if he didn't kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill him and his family. Dumbledore kept talking, and Malfoy lowered his wand. Snape then appeared and killed Dumbledore. Malfoy had lowered his wand." Harry tried to speak in such a matter that it seemed factual.

No one in the audience said a thing, they were seemingly shocked into silence.

Finally, the judge looked out at the audience, "Does anyone else have questions?"

A person called out to Harry, "Why are you defending him?"

Looking down at the limp thing he was defending, Harry thought about his answer. The truth wasn't something he wanted to say. So he lied, "Because it's the right thing to do." Everyone thought this was the truth, because no-one knew he could overthrow veritaserum, and he had been lying through his teeth nearly the entire time. He had never seen Malfoy receive the mark, but he knew Malfoy had been forced.

"Next witness, Minerva Mcgnagall..."

"Why did you defend me?" Draco asked, breaking a stick off a near tree.

"Because it was the right thing to do," lied Harry, looking away from the blond walking next to him.

Draco punched him in the shoulder, "Liar! You forget I've known you for seven years."

"How could I be lying, I was on veritaserum when I said the same thing."

"You must be able to overthrow it!" In his excitement, he snapped a branch right in half, "Like you can with imperio!"

How did Draco guess this? Not even Hermione and Ron could. "No," replied Harry, scratching the back of his neck.

"You're lying right now, you prat."

"And how would you know?"

"Because you're scratching the back of your neck."

Harry immediately removes his hand from the back of his neck. "Maybe I just have an itch."

Draco snorted, "Doubtful..."

"At least I'm not like you! I only lie when I need to, you just do it for fun!"

Suddenly Draco was at his neck again, "Say that again," his breath was somehow minty after two days in the woods.

"That again," Harry mocked.

Draco screamed in frustration, "You're bloody horrible!"

The Gryffindor smirked triumphantly, "Better than you at least."

The two continue walking, and Harry estimates they have about a mile before they reach the village, "How can we go from civilised conversation to this?" The Slytherin asked grumpily, "Oh right, because you're a fucking prat who can't help but be annoying!"

"Better then being a Slytherin git like you."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?!"

"Nothing, there's something wrong with you."

"Then why'd you bring Slytherin into it?"

"Well..." Harry really didn't know, internalised hate of Slytherins maybe?

"Everyone hates Slytherins for no reason!"

"You guys are nasty and mean to everyone," defended Harry.

"Because we have to be! Imagine if you got booed at when you were sorted as an eleven year old. Or if almost every teacher stared at you in distrust as you did your work!" Harry liked this side of Draco, this Draco was passionate and strong. He was raising his arms as he argued, sweeping them back and forth to emphasise his points. "That's why we all liked Snape, because he was the only teacher that didn't treat us like trash."

"Treated every other house like trash though," Harry hated Snape, he was a fucking bastard who bullied Hermione about her teeth.

"Kinda deserved it, don't you think," Draco muttered.

"Did Hermione deserve to get made fun of by a teacher about her teeth?" asked Harry, raising his eyebrows.

Draco grumbled, "No..."

"I was nearly a Slytherin..." Harry changed the subject, "The hat said i'd do great things there."

The blond looked over at him in shock, "Seriously?"

"I choose Gryffindor instead, because you were in Slytherin."

Draco punched him in the stomach, hard, "Prat."

"Git."

(Draco totally wan't imagining what would have happened had Harry been in Slytherin. They would have been bunk mates and friends. They would have broken the rules together, pranking stupid Gryffindors like the weasel. Fallen in lo- stop it Draco, he's never going to love a Death Eater like you)

"I see the village!" Draco shouted, pointing at the buildings barely visible through the trees. Suddenly, Harry took off in a sprint. "No!" Draco yelled, "I am not running, Malfoy's are made for looking good, NOT RUNNING!"

Harry turned back, smirking that horrible smirk he knew bothered Malfoy the most, "Your loss!"

Nether the less, Draco ran after the other boy. Harry turned back to see the blond running after him, practically growling. Another little known fact about Harry: he loved running. He loved being breathless, he loved the wind against his face and the exhilaration. He even loved the sting in his throat and how he felt lightheaded. Looking back at the Slytherin running after him, it was blatantly obvious that the other did not like running.

The village was so close, Harry could smell the smoke and the other people. "Come on Malfoy!" he shouted gleefully.

"Fuck... you... Potter..." Panted the blond from a distance.

/*/*/*/*/*

Malfoy was gone too, and Hermione was extremely worried. By this point, she had realised this wasn't some romantic adventure the two idiots had gotten themselves into. She was in the astronomy tower now, looking at the Slytherin's name on the wall. "Where are you?" she muttered to herself, and to the two boys, as if somehow they could hear her. Casting a quick spell to detect recent bursts of magic, Hermione looked around the room that Harry spent so much time in.

Hermione knew that Harry spent time up here, as she gave herself the job of keeping Harry safe. It had been her job since first year, but she had failed. Contrary to Harry's belief, also, she didn't pity Harry, simply worried about him. She couldn't help it, he was her best friend.

Finally, spell she cast gave her the results, and she found that there had been a portkey used in the last couple of days. Hermione's mind immediately raced to when this had happened before, during fourth year.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light coming from within the maze. "Did Harry win?" Ron cried, assuming the light meant he did. But Hermione knew better, as Dumbledore and the other teachers were rushing to the source of the light.

"Everyone stay calm!" Mcgnagall shouted above the ceaseless chatter, "We are figuring out what happened!" Hermione and Ron raced over to the teachers, who were entering the maze one by one.

"Is Harry okay?" She asked Dumbledore frantically.

"We're finding him right now," replied the old man.

"Finding him!?" shouted Ron, nearly punching Hermione in his shock, "What happened to him!? Where's he gone!?" And as if summoned by the thought, there appears their best friend, clutching the dead body of Cedric.

"IT WAS VOLDEMORT!" he screamed, causing panic and chaos immediately. Hermione and Ron ignored the crowds, and rushed over to their friend, who muttered to him over and over, "Kill the spare, Kill the spare."

In Hermione's opinion, portkey's were never good, and almost always led to the deaths of Harry's crushes. She sprinted out of the astronomy tower and to the headmistresses office, intent on telling her exactly what she found.

/*/*/*/*/*

Harry saw people, other people! Not Draco people! He never thought he'd be so happy to see people. But then he saw a woman, staring at him nervously, "Run..." he thought he saw her mouth. The other people in the village had yet to notice him, as the woman glanced around fearfully. "RUN!" she shouted this time, voice shakey and fearful. And then Harry saw it, saw that most of the people walking bore dark marks, ugly and black. They glanced up at the woman's shouting, and Harry turned around as fast as possible.

"RUN!" he screamed to Draco. When the blond saw Harry's pale face, he turned around and sprinted. Had the situation not been so dangerous, Harry would have laughed, because now that Draco was in actual peril, he was an extremely fast runner.

Harry heard footsteps behind him, chasing after the two. Suddenly, Draco cut off to his left. The brunet tried to follow, but had used up all his energy running towards the village. His breath was fast and hollow. Run, Harry, Run, he told himself, pushing himself. He kept running, trying to keep up with the blond, but he got slower and slower until he felt hands brushing against his sleeves.

One of those said hands got a firm grip on Harry and pulled him to the ground. Punching and kicking, Harry tried to fight them off. But he was out of breath, and out of strength. Two grabbed him by one arm and kept him in a tight lock. He was unable to move. Ahead, he saw Draco, who had stopped and turned around, staring helplessly at Harry. "KEEP RUNNING!" he screamed as loud as possible. One of the Death Eaters tries to cover his mouth with a hand, but Harry bites it, "GET MCGNAGAL-" he had a gag in his mouth now, but he kept struggling and screaming.

The blond looked back one panicked time, to see two more Death Eaters chasing after him, and Harry being held captive, and ran for his fucking life. Internally, Harry smiled to himself, because now at least he'll die a hero instead of a suicide victim, and because Draco would live. Harry trusted that Draco was fast enough to escape.

"Who do we have here?" asked one of the Death Eaters, removing Harry's gag.

"Your mum," he responded arrogantly, not even bothering to struggle anymore. He was ready to go down sarcastically as possible. The Death Eater punched Harry in the face, and Harry smiled through the blood. Scowling, the ragged man brushed his hand through his dark dirty hair. Then, he spotted Harry's scar.

Now gleeful, the man brushed Harry's hair out of the way, "Merlin," he gasped, "It's Harry Potter!" The two Death Eaters holding Harry cackled joyfully.

"Is it really?" one questioned, his voice as dumb as he looked.

"It is!" replied their leader (Harry assumed he was their leader because he wasn't as daft looking as the others).

"You gonna kill me now?" Harry demanded, hopeful that they would. People would love it so much more if Harry was killed by Death Eaters, rather then Harry.

"No," the Death Eater smiled, and evil and cruel smile, "We're going to have some fun first..."

/*/*/*/*/*

Sorry this chapter was so angsty, i just wanted to add some background to the story and to Harry. Please tell me what you think, if you have any improvements or suggestions, etc. Thank you! also i don't really know how trails work so please tell me if i did an okay job


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco rescues Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I was very sick

Oh. My. God. Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.

FUCKING HELL!

FUCK!

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Harry. Fucking. Potter. Had. Been. Kidnapped. And. He. Draco. Malfoy. Had. To. Save. Him.

How had his life come to this? When had his life become so crazy? Um, his mind told himself, it had always been crazy. But why Potter? Um, his mind told himself again, everything with you is about Potter. 

And it was true, everything was about Potter, had been since before Hogwarts. When he overheard his parents ranting about a baby, a baby who defeated the Dark Lord, Draco had little boy fantasies about meeting said boy and becoming best friends with him. When he finally met Potter, at the robe shop first and then the train later, Draco had been a little disappointed. There was no way his scrawny thing could possibly be the Harry Potter. Harry Potter was supposed to be handsome, strong and proper, not awkward and muggle. Still, Draco offered his hand, and then he was denied. A Malfoy was never denied.

Draco swore revenge.

But there was more to it. Draco loved bringing the fire to Harry's eyes, it was just so damn addicting. He just burned so brightly, rage and anger practically oozing out of his body. And Draco loved that it was him bringing out these emotions.

Draco supposed he had always been in love with Potter, starting as an awe filled crush, to a raging hate due to denial, to where ever he was right now. But he had truly accepted the fact that he was in love with Potter in fourth year, when he saw Potter dancing (If you could even call it that) with that wretched Gryffindor girl. However, that doesn't mean he reacted well to it, as Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle could all tell you. 

Draco was once again struck by the immune feeling of hopelessness, because now the man Draco was in love with, the saviour of the wizarding world, had been kidnapped by Death Eaters, a group in which Draco had formally been a part of.

How could he save him? With no wand? Draco felt anxiety creeping up his spine. No. Nonononono. He would not be having a panic attack right now, not in a time of great need.

Okay. What did his mother always tell him? Oh god, his mother (Don't think about her, Draco, crying in the middle of the woods will do no good). Find four things, Draco, four things you can feel. Draco sat heavily on the ground. He gripped the soft grainy dirt, one thing. A sharp pine needle poked his finger, and Draco jerked slightly, two things. Leaning against a tree, the bark itched through his sweatshirt, three things. His feet ached against his slightly pinchy shoes, four things. 

He could still feel it though, that horrible feeling rising in his stomach. It tingled and Draco felt his entire body shake. Three things you can hear, that's what he needed to find next. A bird whistled in the distance, high pitched and sharp, one thing. (Potter screaming at him, RUN! Draco being a coward, like he always was and running for his life, the look of Potter's defeat etched into his eyes). The wind, bristling through the trees, the pine needles seemingly like bells, two things. Once, Draco had been grateful for the peaceful silence of the woods, but now it pressed against him, weighed on his shoulders. ONE MORE THING DRACO! Um... um... Draco's own breath, that counted right? Draco concentrated on making his frantic puffs even, until he felt his body slouch and calm, three things.

Next was two things you can smell. The pine needles, that was an obvious one, they smelled sharp and quiet, nothing like those ridiculous muggle scent things, one thing. One more, Draco, you can do it. A softer smell, the dirt, it was faint but blatantly there, rushing into Draco's nose with every breath, two things. 

Now dear, his mother had always told him, Now that you are calmed down some, think of one positive thing about the situation (Oh Merlin, I miss you so much mother. As soon as I rescue Potter, I will avenge your death). But what was a positive thing about this situation? Without warning, a solution to his question slammed into him. He was on the right side, the good side, with the man he loved. He was doing the right thing, and it felt utterly horrible, but at least a tiny bit better then doing the wrong. Oh, Merlin, he was a good guy (No you're not, you're an asshole doing the right thing (True, Draco thought to the Potter inside him).). 

Draco promptly started crying. Contrary to popular belief, Draco was not an elegant, single tear sliding down the cheek crier. He was an ugly, puffy eyes, full out baller. Tear after wretched tear pushed their way out. Wanting to scream, Draco controlled himself, who knew, the Death Eaters could still be out there. The one positive side of crying was that afterwards, his mind felt clearer, which was perhaps why he cried so much during sixth year. 

Draco's mind formed a plan, a risky, no chance plan, but still a plan. He, wandless and weak, would sneak into the camp, talk to that old women and find Potter. Then rescue him of course. Dear Merlin, he thought, We're all doomed. 

/*/*/*/*/*

Harry had never felt more exposed then he was right now, and the only piece of clothing missing was his shirt. The smart one had taken one look at his scars and promptly said, "We don't have to torture him, because he's enjoy it. We just have to leave him here and he'll torture himself, isn't that right?" 

Harry, ever so the hero, had yelled a few particular words bad enough that not even me, the author, is willing to write. (That's write (get it) I broke the fourth wall) The two goons laughed evilly like the henchmen they were (They reminded Harry of Crabbe and Goyle) and the trio had left.

Now he was sitting in silence, and it pressed against him, threatening to crush him. This was not how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to torture him, and then kill him, and he would forever be remembered as a hero. 

Instead, they had left his thoughts to destroy him. And destroying him they were. 

Harry ached for a blade.

They had chained him up, in a way that wasn't uncomfortable, but it wouldn't allow him to punch himself. He had an itch on his stomach, Harry wanted to scratch it till it bled.

Was Draco okay? Harry hoped he was, desperately. Since when did he care about the git so much? 

Harry glanced around at the dark prison he was in, with nothing to look at or nothing to do but think. He needed pain, but he couldn't even touch himself. 

Slowly, Harry's thoughts consumed him.

/*/*/*/*/*

Hermione didn't think the bad feeling could get worse, but get worse it did. She and Ron had both gotten it, suddenly and together. They turned to each other instantly, a single word on their tongue. 

Harry.

/*/*/*/*/*

Draco had always prided himself in being smartly Slytherin. He had always thought that had he been the hero, rather then Potter, he would have defeated the Dark Lord much sooner, as he would have been smart rather then brash, willing to make the necessary sacrifice. Perhaps it was better that Potter was the hero however, because Draco would have likely been the next Dark Lord.

But here he was, being so utterly Gryffindor and rushing into things like bloody Potter. Perhaps it was because it was Potter who he was saving?

Draco was currently spying on the village, trying to spot the old woman. His hood was up, concealing his bright blond hair.

The village seemed normal from a distance, too normal in fact. Would this have been his life if Potter hadn't defended him? No, he'd be in Azkaban. 

There. He spotted the woman cowering as she stumbled into her home. Why was this woman here? The Death Eaters had probably taken over the village, allowing a few to survive. Draco snuck forwards, grateful for all the nights he and his friends had practiced the very skill. 

The soft dirt made no sound as he crept behind the ramshackle houses towards the one the elderly women just entered. Oh thank Merlin, there was a back door, and oh praise Merlin, it was unlocked. Maybe by pure luck he would be able to get Potter back. 

The inside of the house was dirty and quaint, and Draco automatically felt disgusted. Didn't someone ever clean the house? And there was the woman, sagging sadly against a dusty chair.

"Ma'am?" He asked, trying not to scare her. 

The old woman jerked up, pointing a knife in front of her, "Who's there? Fuckin reveal yourself or I'll slice you in half!" Oh dear god, Draco thought, she's Scottish.

Draco stepped out into the light, taking off his hood to reveal blond hair. "Oh, it's you. Didn't I tell you to run?!"

"My friend, he got captured-"

"Oh, he's probably dead then. Sorry for your loss. Now get the hell out of you before you get killed too!" Draco found himself disliking the women more and more, although he did respect her, as she was surviving in a town controlled by Death Eaters. 

"Even if he is dead," (You despicable woman, he felt like adding), "I need to find him."

"Ohhhhh, I see," She cackled, finally putting the knife away, "You're in love with him!"

Draco scoffed, "What?! No. I'm not... No!"

Her wrinkly face upturned into a smug smile, "Yes, you are."

Throwing his arms up, Draco exclaimed, "Fine! Why does this matter?"

"No reason, but I'm a sucker for love," she laughs, "Can't help it. So I'll tell you where your man is, if he is alive, but you have to promise to send help when you escape." 

Draco nodded. "We will. I promise."

"You fuckin' better." She leaned back, "You'll need a lock pick, just in case he's locked up." Draco saw her grab something from her pocket, "Do you know how to work it?" she indicated to the lock pick she held in her hand.

"Of course-"

"Good, now he's being held six houses to the right, and he may be guarded. Good luck lad, you'll need it."

"Thank you," Draco said, sneaking out the backdoor and away from that god awful accent. The next minutes were a blur of silence and sneaking, anxiety fluttering in his stomach. Surprisingly, there were no guards, and Draco was able to enter easily into the dark room. 

He saw Harry sitting there, his face empty and dark, body covered in scars. Merlin, Potter. Potter's body was muscular and fit, the tan body covered in little pink lines. Draco recalled back at Hogwarts, how he had always been scrawny at the beginning of the year, but soon became muscular and fit. He had always thought it odd that Potter was scrawny at all, wasn't the saviour supposed to be spoiled rotten. No time to ponder, Draco, time to save the love of your miserable little life.

/*/*/*/*/*

"Potter?" Harry thought he heard, but no that was probably just his mind, trying to destroy him. "Potter!"

Harry jerked his head up, and there was Draco, blond hair covered by that hoodie that had caused him so much pain. "Draco?"

Suddenly Draco was unlocking his chains with a - muggle lock pick? "You didn't leave me?"

Draco looked at him, pink lips so perfect, "I was about to, you insufferable prat, but I need you to survive. Unfortunately."

Harry's emptiness and depression was filled with something like happiness, "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. Suddenly, he thought, his scars! What was Draco thinking? He hurriedly covered himself in shame. "Shirt?"

Draco smirked at him, "I don't know Potter, I like you better shirtless," Harry felt his face warm, "But you are going to explain each of those scars to me later, you prat, understand?"

No, nononono please don't make me do this, Harry thought to himself, "Let's just go."

The two boys rushed silently as possible through the empty house/prison, Harry's thoughts roaring. What if he hates me? What if he finds me disgusting? Well of course he's going to find you disgusting, you are disgusting. Nope, concentrate on escape Harry, at least getting Draco out and heroically dying in the process.

And then they were out of the house, and so close to the woods. He pushed Draco in front of him, through the trees, whispering "Run!" Draco did run, thinking the brunet was right behind him, his footsteps soft and faint. But Harry stayed, ready to die, as long as Draco was safe, and a Death Eater saw him. Finally, Harry thought. Then Draco turned around, and Harry panicked. "RUN!" he screamed frantically, but Draco stayed. 

Goddamnit Draco, Harry thought, and saw the Death Eater pointing a wand at him, "RUN!" Harry screamed, turning to face whatever spell the Death Eater would fire at him. The light shined blissfully through the trees. What a nice way to die, he thought. Seeing the faint light of the spell pelting towards him, he turned around to give his last words to the blond man now running at him like the idiot he was, "I lo-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the cliff hanger. Please give me suggestions


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and Sexual Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger is finally resolved

Harry was in heaven.

Or, at least, someplace like it. He couldn't remember how he got here, only that he was hurt. Finally, Merlin, he had ached for this moment for so long. Looking around him, the world was made of colour, dark dark colour. It was almost like the night but there were no stars, and there was more colour. Colour that didn't exist. 

It was silent, but in the good way. "Hello?" Harry asked, half to see if he could talk in this place, half to see if anyone was actually there. His words were sucked silent by the rosy air. This place was beautiful, and Harry had never felt more alive.

Suddenly he was laughing, an out of control, borderline hysterical laugh. Oh, Merlin, freedom. 

He was free! The word repeated over and over in his head until he was shouting it out loud. He was free of that horrible world. Suddenly, "Son?"

Harry turned around sharply, "Mum? Dad?" And there they were, looking just as they had during the war, and so were Sirius and Remus and Fred and Dobby and all the others he had failed. "So I'm dead?"

"Close to it," replied Remus, looking gravely at his former student.

Harry felt like cheering, but instead he nudged his godfather instead, "Are you... serious?"

Sirius looked gravely at him, "Dead. Sirius."

Once again he was laughing, as his mum slapped her husband and his best friend. "Harry, this is a very serious - If you make this a pun I swear to god - situation, you could die."

"Why is that a bad thing? I could be with you!"

Then Fred, cheerful and happy Fred, spoke solemnly, "Someone needs to tell my brother hi for me-."

"Heaven's pretty fun, never imagined I'd end up there to be honest," Sirius interrupted, "But not now, Harry."

"Dobby?" Harry pleaded, he need just one of them to want him to come.

The small elf looked up at Harry, eyes wide and teary, "Dobby needs Master to take care of other Master..."

"But I want to be with all of you!" He'd be with his family, why didn't they see how good this was!? "Sirius, you promised we'd be a family!" Harry pleaded, "And I want to get to know you Mum and Dad!" The redhead had began to cry, and so had her husband.

"Not this way," comforted Sirius, "Not a family this way-"

"Please!" begged Harry, "I don't want to live anymore!"

Suddenly Remus was in front of him, kneeling on the ground as if he was in third year again, "I've felt that way, many many times, but know, you can get through it. It will be hard, I'm not going to lie, but it's possible," Harry had began to cry, "But you need to do this, for your friends, for you." Remus indicated to everyone behind him, "And we -" he paused as if over taken by effort, "Will be here to support you."

"We'll always be here," James came over and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, and his wife followed, kissing her son on the cheek, "Until the very end."

"You can do it, mate," Fred chimed in, "And tell my brother that I love him, and he better keep that jokeshop running or I'll haunt his ass!" 

"Dobby wishes for you to go back."

"We can be a proper family when it's your proper time."

"Just think happy memories, just like I taught you."

"We love you, son."

Harry screamed. He wished this was a book or movie so bad, because in a book or movie he'd be so happy by all their blessings he'd pop back onto Earth and be happy and kiss Draco or something. But this wasn't a book or a movie because all he wanted to do was to go with them, to fucking die already. "I can't do it! And you 'believing' in me isn't going to do fucking anything!" His mother brushed her hand through his hair, in a soothing motion he remembered slightly from his childhood, "I have nothing there for me! Just emptiness and nothing."

Suddenly she touched Harry's forehead and he felt a rush throughout his entire body, "You do have something-"

Flash.

Meeting Draco in the robe shop, and instantly hating him.

Flash.

Ron staying behind during Christmas break because Harry doesn't have a home to go to.

Flash.

Hermione helping with his homework constantly, when he doesn't understand it.

Flash.

The trio creating an illegal potion for months. Together.

Flash.

Hermione punching Draco in the face.

Flash.

Ron with his broken leg, saying "You'll have to go through me first"

Flash.

Laughing with his friends, his soulmates.

Flash.

Both of his friends staying at Hogwarts for Christmas, until Ron invites Harry and Hermione over to the burrow instead.

Flas-

"Fine!" Harry shouted, "I'll... I'll go..." 

Lily touched Harry's forehead again, "I love you, my son-"

And then Harry woke up.

/*/*/*/*/*

Everything was black. 

Where was he? He thrashed around in distress. Something gripped his hand, "Harry!" He instantly recognised the voice, that snobby voice that could trigger that fire in seconds.

"Malfoy?" Everything rushed back to him, "Draco! Are you okay? Where are we-"

"Harry, calm down. We're back at Hogwarts-"

"Harry!" he heard, his vision still blurry, "Are you okay? As soon as you left, I just got this feeling, Ron too-"

"Calm down, Mione', I'm fine. And Ron, before you say anything-"

"-Hey!-"

"Just let Draco explain what happened while I was out!"

All eyes turned to Draco, who was still slightly blurry. "You got hit, with a variation of a stunning spell-"

"But how did I get here if we didn't have our wands?"

"Accidental magic, or at least that's what we're guessing so far. All I remember is heroically running to you, grabbing you and then we were outside Hogwarts."

"Sorry to interrupt, Draco-" Hermione started

Harry blurted, "Since when is he Draco to you?"

The curly haired girl stared at him, indicating that what he had just said was very rude, "Since he became halfway decent-"

"Not that decent," Both Ron and Draco muttered.

"-And stayed by your bed the entire three days you were out."

Draco frowned, "I did no such thing, I would never waste precious time on the likes of you," He spat at Harry, and Harry smiled.

"Yes. You would." Hermione and Ron said at the same time, utterly serious.

"Anyway," Hermione said, "Back to what I was saying, I believe he was able to bring you back because he cares so much about you- don't protest Draco, we all know it's true - it triggered his magic to be released, or he was able to channel his magic unconsciously."

At this, Harry stared at the blond, who was despairingly clear now that Harry's eyes weren't blurry. Draco was sitting on a chair next to the white infirmary bed Harry was laying in. His hair was messy, and obviously hadn't been brushed in days, although he was wearing different clothes. Wow, Draco had sacrificed his hair for Harry. This was practically giving up his life for Harry's, no, this was giving up his life. Draco had started talking again, looking anywhere but Harry, "As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted," Hermione scoffed at this, "I then carried you - don't look so surprised Potter, although you are heavy as fuck - and brought you to the infirmary like the hero I am. Then told people where the camp is and stuff, they're still off looking for it. After that I gave zero shits about you and didn't stay by your bed, no matter what your whores say."

"Excuse me?" Ron asked, clearly offended by being called a whore.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "What? It was a compliment. You'd be a good whore, although I'd be the best, with my dashing looks and all. What?! Stop looking at me like that, Granger, unless you'd like to try, I just want to let you know, I don't come cheap-"

"You'll come though," Harry snickered.

Smirking, Draco turned to Harry, "For you, I'd come anytime." Although they had both meant it as a joke, Harry blushed like an idiot, and couldn't look at Draco, because he was totally not imagining that very thing. Oh Merlin, he had fallen hard.

Ron had his hand to his head, "Just fucking make out already," Harry thought he heard his friend say.

"What?" Harry asked the ginger, daring him to say it again.

Unfortunately Hermione said it instead, "He said just kiss already! Merlin, it's hard enough with Draco staying here and refusing to leave for three fucking days." You knew it was serious when Hermione swore, "But now you're flirting like you have been for the past five years, it just more obvious and sexual, so just fucking kiss already!"

Touching a delicate hand to his chest, Draco chocked dramatically, "And here I was thinking you wanted me-" 

"Like hell, you're as straight as my hair!"

"Mione'" Ron murmured, "Maybe we should leave-"

"Damn right, we should leave!" Hermione grabbed her boyfriends hand and started to storm out of the room, "If you are not-"

"Have fun!" Shouted Ron, covering Hermione's mouth before she said some other vulgar thing.

The two boy's stared awkwardly at their feet, faces red. "Well..." Draco drawled, "That was something..."

"So? Apparently we're flirting with each other?" Harry blushed, turning away from Draco. Suddenly Draco is sitting on top of Harry, legs on either side of Harry's own legs. Jerking up to look at the blond, "What are you doing?"

"Following Granger's advice."

"Oh."

And then Draco's leaning down, arm's on either side of Harry's head, pale blond hair falling in front of his face and tickling Harry's face. Fuck. Harry is screwed because he's already panting like hell.

"Why did no one tell me he's awake!" Madame Pomfrey shouted, storming into the room. Immediately Draco leaped off Harry, blushing like hell.

"Sorry, Madame Pomfrey," Harry apologised, trying to prevent himself from stuttering.

"What are you sorry for!? You're the one hurt! Now you, Draco Malfoy, you should have called me as soon as he woke up!"

"Dear Madame Pomfrey, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologise, just get out so I can check on my patient!"

Harry laughed at how easily Madame Pomfrey was able to humble Draco as Draco said, "Sorry ma'am," He winked at Harry seductively before rushing out of the room.

/*/*/*/*/* 

He had nearly kissed Harry Potter. 

And Harry Potter had nearly kissed him back.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst, Sexual Tension, Fluff

Madame Pomfry eventually let him free, after much struggling. Every moment after they had nearly kissed, Harry had been thinking of nothing but finding Draco, slamming him against a wall and doing several things that were probably crimes in at least three countries.

But he also had other things on his mind, as Madame Pomfry had kept him in the infirmary for practically an hour, asking about his scars and recommending therapists. Should he see a therapist? Were the things that he was feeling fixable?

He was also going over all the things Hermione had said, Harry's mind was racing. The Slytherin had never left his side for three days. So maybe his feelings were mutual, or maybe Draco just felt guilty.

Why did his life to have to be so bloody complicated?

He had to find Draco, Draco made things better. Draco made everything focus on him, rather then all the shit in the world.

Luckily for him, as soon as he left the room, the blond was leaning against the wall.

"Did you hear?" Harry rushed to ask.

Draco raised a single brow, "Hear about your self harm scars? Hear about the therapist recommendations?"

Harry blushed violently, "Yeah-"

"I didn't hear a word."

"Not Funny."

Suddenly a soft pale was in his, pulling him along, "I told you in the village that you would have to explain it to me, so now you're going to."

"Please don't make me do this..."

Draco stopped pulling him abruptly, "No! I will not pity you! So fuck you Potter! You are explaining this!" 

Harry's urge to slam Draco against increased, so he did. Draco hair was messed up, yet somehow perfect. And his lips, his fucking lips were parted and pink and fuck. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear someone to say that..." He murmured. Pale long fingers were rested against his chest, and one of Harry's hands was behind the blonds neck and the other sliding up Draco's chin, slowly tilting it up.

Suddenly those pale fingers were pushing Harry away, "No!" He shouted, frustrated, "You will tell me!" Then those long fingers were gripping Harry's face, those pink lips teasing him, "We'll save this for later..." 

Draco was biting him lip and Harry had to physically force himself to stop from ravaging him.

"Fine. But in private?"

"Where do you think we were going before you so rudely slammed me against a wall?" drawled the Slytherin.

"Fuck you-"

"Not yet," Draco smirked, looking back at the man who's hand he was tugging along.

Harry was dying, even he could sense the sexual tension, and he was probably the most oblivious of them all. Resolving not to say anything, Harry allowed the other boy to drag him up to their private room.

When they reached the common room, Hermione and Ron were sitting there, innocently cuddling, "Help-" Harry tried.

"Shut it!" Draco snapped, jerking on Harry's arm.

As their door closed behind them, the two boys heard Ron mutter, "They're probably fucking..."

"But Draco was pulling Harry along," Hermione pondered, "I always thought Harry would top-"

"SHUT UP GRANGER!" Draco yelled through the closed door, "WE'RE TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION!"

They heard the two snort, "Conversation-"

Draco promptly put a silencing spell on the room, "I hate your friends."

"Sometimes, the feeling is mutual."

Sitting elegantly on his bed, Draco gestured to Harry, "Now, tell me."

"It's not pretty-"

"Well, you're not pretty either, yet I deal with you..." 

Harry sighed, "I'll have to start at the beginning. It's a long story-"

"Well I got loads of time - I mean - I'll make room for you," Draco corrected himself.

Smiling to himself darkly, Harry silenced his inner protests, he began, "It's always been bad, I didn't have the best childhood and stuff-"

"Explain," Draco interrupted.

"That's very, very personal, Draco. And it's also a long story. I'll... I'll tell you later." Harry stuttered, tucking his knees to his chest.

Getting up, Draco came up and sat on the bed next to Harry, "I'm holding you accountable."

"Anyway... Well... It was the war that started this," Harry indicated to him wrists, "Well after the war. It was just that everything is my fault!" Oops, Harry was letting everything loose now, "If I had just been faster and smarter I could have prevented all those deaths! It was my fault Cedric and Sirius and everyone else died!"

"How?" Draco asked simply.

"Voldemort," Draco flinched as Harry said the name, "Sent me a vision of Sirius in trouble, and me, like the idiot I am, followed it. If it weren't for me, he would have never been there! He would have never died!"

"You were a child, The Dark Lord was an adult! Of course you were tricked! No-one can expect a child to beat the Dark Lord-"

"And Cedric, I'm the one that suggested we grab the cup together. And then he was killed! Do you know what he said? Kill the spare. Kill the fucking spare!"

Draco's arms find their way around Harry's waist, one delicate hand massaging his back. Merlin, he was crying, hard and ugly. "It sounds like, Potter, that it's not your fault! It's the bloody DARK LORD'S!" 

"It's my fault. Everything is my fault! And that's why I did it, because I felt nothing but guilt and emptiness and I just wanted to feel something else! It's why I'm addicted to it and you because you both make me feel. Ron... Ron and Hermione just make me feel guilt! After all, it's my fault that Fred died and Hermione still doesn't have her parents!"

"Wait," Draco said, eyes wide, "Back it up a little. You're addicted to me?"

"Yes!" shouted Harry, "You make me feel fire and happy and so damn frustrated."

"I want to snog you so badly right now," Draco practically growled, "But I'm not going to take advantage of you in your current delicate situation..."

Harry whined in protest.

"Come, Potter," And then Draco is gripping Harry's hand again, pulling them along.

Ron and Hermione looked up in surprise as they exit the room, "You guys really weren't fucking?"

"Fuck off!" Draco yelled, and tugged Harry out of before anyone could say anything else.

/*/*/*/*/*

Groaning in protest, Harry sputtered, "Why is it that you're constantly dragging me around?"

Stopping suddenly, Draco turned around, "Shit! I forgot you were injured! Are you okay, Potter?"

"I'm fine, I've been through a lot worse-"

"That doesn't make me feel any better-"

"Where are you taking me anyway?"

Smirking, Draco turned to the door that had suddenly appeared in front of them, "Where do you think, Potter?"

"The Room of Requirement?"

Everything is burning, as Harry turns back, broom sweeping, only to see Crabbe falling in the the heat. Malfoy looks back, staring at the space his dear friend once occupied, and screams. 

Draco must see the look on Harry's face because he said, "It was hard, at first. But this summer I was one of the volunteers who helped rebuild Hogwarts, and I fixed up the room. I made my peace."

Not knowing what to say, he didn't say anything.

Draco swept open the door dramatically, "Welcome to my oasis..."

Immediately Harry's breath was taken away, as the room was an elegant green with swooping arches and a tall ceiling. The ceiling had an intricate painting on it, made of only the colour silver. "Whoa..." Harry whispered in awe, voice echoing in the vast room. But that wasn't all, scattered neatly through out the room was a wide variety of instruments. A grand piano, an organ on one side of the room, a violin, and a bigger violin? A cello, a guitar, and so much more.

"Holy shit, how many instruments do you play?" 

Draco was wearing that signature smirk as he gloated, "How ever many I want too-"

"Play something?"

"What instrument?" Drawled Draco, loving the fact he was able to show off.

"Doesn't matter," Harry glanced around at the many instruments around the vast room, "Um.. Cello?" (You're welcome Grace)

As Draco glided over to the cello, Harry couldn't help but notice how even in muggle clothes, he managed to look like a fucking angel, "I'll play the Cello solo from The Swan, or Le Cygne."

A chair appeared curtesy of the room, and Draco grabbed his cello. Suddenly the soft sweeping sound of music fills the huge room. In a trance, Draco played a soft, yet dramatic piece, that fit perfectly with him. Eyes closed, Draco played as Harry watched him, smitten.

The piece was low and high and soft and loud and beautiful. All too soon and all to slowly the piece ended. Opening his pale grey eyes, the blond stares up at Harry, smirk replaced with a soft smile.

"My mother used to hum that to me so I could sleep. When ever we'd go to France, she's take me to see it played by a real orchestra. After I saw if for the first time, I was insistent on playing the cello. My father bought one for me even though it was considered very muggle, and immediately after that I feel in love with the viola. Music is my freedom..."

Harry wants to kiss him desperately, but he can't bring himself to because all he wants to do is enjoy this moment. "Do you speak French?" 

Draco was grinning, a real one, as he replied, "Of course. I'm a very cultured man."

"Say something then?"

"Peut importe le nombre de cicatrices que tu as, je t'aime" Draco whispered softly, and Harry had no idea what he just said but he loved it anyway because they way Draco's lips formed the words is simply enchanting. And hot as hell.

To cover up his blushing face, Harry asked, "What does that mean?"

Soft expression going evil, Draco laughed, "Where's the fun in telling you?"

"Evil bastard."

Draco set down his cello, "Fine, I'll make it up to you," Looking Harry up and down, he thought out loud, "You have the look of a cello player, come here."

"Bossy prat," Harry complained, but walked over anyway.

Shoving Harry down into the chair, Draco said, "I'm going to teach you to play a Mozart piece-"

"A Mozart piece? Isn't that a little hard? And a little muggle for you?"

"Mozart was actually a wizard you daft idiot, and does twinkle twinkle little star seem hard to you?"

Harry was more surprised that Mozart wrote twinkle twinkle little start then that he was a wizard, "He did?"

"Well there a speculations he stole it from a woman and then took credit for it... Stop distracting me Potter!"

"Sorry-"

"Ten Galleons," Draco smirked.

"Fuck you-"

"Shut up and let me teach you." Draco handed him the instrument. And then Draco's arms are around Harry, putting his awkward limbs into the right place. Harry could feel every place they were touching because every place they were touching was on fire. Draco plucked the thickest string, "This is the C string," He said, and his mouth is right next to Harry's ear so those goddamn vibrations are spreading everywhere.

He plucked the string next to it, "This is the G string, we won't be using those two." Harry can do nothing but nod mutely, "This is the D string, and this is the A string, " Both strings are promptly plucked, "Those are the two we'll be using."

"We'll?" Harry managed to ask.

"After you learn properly, I shall accompany you on my viola."

"Oh."

As Draco instructed him on where to place his fingers and when, Harry really did try his best to pay attention, but Draco was just so fucking distracting. The way his soft blond hair tickled Harry's cheek and neck, his harsh silver eyes, his body leaning against Harry's- "Are you even listening to me, Potter?"

"I am!" Harry said defensively. 

"Then show me the note B?" Harry scrambled through the last ten minutes of conversation, before placing his first finger on the A string. "Fine," Draco huffed, "Try playing it?"

When Harry reached for the bow, Draco hit his hand roughly, "You pluck first, bow is harder." Harry nodded, before furring his brow in concentration, hoping the simple song will form it's self.

It doesn't.

Yet, Draco was patient, "Here, Potter," He gently grabbed one of Harry's thick fingers, and placed it in it's proper place.

"Ohh!" Harry murmured, feeling slightly idiotic. 

"Not everyone is a natural like me," Draco drawled, showing through his snarky statement that it was perfectly alright that Harry failed completely and utterly at playing the Cello. "Let's try something else..." And then he places his soft hands over Harry's, and although it's awkward at first, he managed to play the song using Harry's fingers.

"I think I get it now!" Harry yelped in happiness, because fucking finally. Slowly, but surely, he's able to make out twinkle twinkle little star. "Did I just?"

"Good job, Potter."

"Holy shit, I just played the cello!"

Ignoring the fact he had just complimented Harry a moment earlier, Draco replied, "Poorly."

"Can I try the bow now?"

Learning to play with the bow took a little bit longer, but soon Harry can play is easily. 

As Draco left to go grab his viola, Harry pondered: How on Earth did they get here? First, they were in the woods escaping fucking Death Eaters. Then, he was in the infirmary for three days. Next, he woke up, nearly kissed Draco and then been scolded by Madame Pomfry. Then he had explained his fucking scars and cuts to his former nemesis, before being dragged here. Now, he was playing twinkle twinkle little star on an instrument he had never actually seen in real life before now.

Life never ceased being complicated for him. (Or maybe it was because the Author is shitty at plot)

Draco returned with his viola (Which Harry learned was not a violin, and if he ever called it that again he would die a slow and painful death), and they tried to play the song together.

At first it failed horribly, the notes practically screeching. But after several tries, they managed to at least sound decent.

As they played Twinkle twinkle little star, their two instruments harmonising, Harry thought, despite everything that had led them to being here, there was no where he'd rather be.

"Peut importe le nombre de cicatrices que tu as, je t'aime"

/*/*/*/*/*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! Also the French means: No matter how many scars you have, I love you


	13. Chapter Thirteen

They hadn't kissed.

They hadn't fucking kissed. 

It had been over a week since they had nearly kissed in the infirmary and they hadn't fucking kissed. It had never been like this with Cho or Ginny, never. He'd enjoyed their company immensely, and sure, of course he had thought about kissing them, but he wasn't completely desperate for them like he was with Draco.

However, it wasn't like Draco's lips were the only thing he craved, and Harry would be perfectly fine hanging around Draco, as friends, because he did simply enjoy the Slytherin's company. No matter how much of a snob he could be (And he could be a huge snob). 

He just wanted to be around Draco and make Draco feel all the things he felt. And he felt nothing but fire. Burning, feeling fire. In those moments where their lips were just so fucking close, that fire threatened to burn him up. He was desperate to press their lips together and truly burn alive.

They had been so close too, and then Draco would smile that horrible little smile and Harry would suffer a little longer. He originally thought it was because Draco was a terrible bastard who wanted him to suffer, but then he saw behind the mask. Draco was very good at covering up his feelings, too good. He shouldn't of been that good, because it was a talent only developed after years of practice. But, Harry knew him too well. 

Draco was scared.

Harry didn't know what he was scared of. Was it him? Was it moving on with whatever they felt for each other? What was it? Whatever it was, it threatened to eat Harry alive. However, he let himself suffer, he deserved it after all. He would live the rest of his life suffering if it meant spending time with Draco, he just didn't want the Slytherin to suffer too. 

So he continued as normal, as if his insides didn't burst into flames whenever he saw Draco.

The past eight days had been nothing but snippy conversations, awkward goodnights and listening to Draco play his various instruments. 

Holy shit, he did play play a lot instruments. And he was amazing at playing all of them. Harry adored the face Draco spouted when he played, it was just so peaceful and relaxed, yet wrinkled in concentration. Whenever he was playing a swooping, slightly easier part, his eyes would close delicately, long pale eyelashes beautiful. And whenever he was playing a slightly harder part, his perfect eyebrows would furrow in elegant concentration.

He could watch Draco play for hours. And he had. 

Three hours to be exact. Afterwards Draco had looked up in surprise, "You're still here?"

"I never left," Harry had replied, "You honestly didn't notice me?"

Draco had scoffed, "I don't tend to notice people when I play..."

"Not. Even. Me!?" Harry had said dramatically, reaching an offended hand to his chest.

"Especially not you, you're not noticeable at all!" Draco's pale blond hair had been slightly roughed up, and his hand had limply held his viola at his side. 

The Gryffindor had burst into laughter, "Because the Boy who Lived isn't noticeable at all!"

He was still amazed that Draco even stuck by him, after admitting to all those horrible things he had done. 

"Actually no, you're too noticeable-"

Harry had given Draco the look of told you, and Draco had scowled back at him.

"-because your hair is atrocious! Simply looking at it makes people want to hurl!"

"You really love hair don't you?" Harry had pondered sarcastically, "Have a hair fetish?"

Draco had looked extremely offended, and the Room of Requirement summoned a glove which had promptly slapped Harry across the face. 

The Room of Requirement seemed to be in love with Draco, as it always took Draco's side. Harry suspected it was because Draco had been the one to rebuild it over the summer, or perhaps it was because they room detected how pure of a person Draco was (Although Draco would be horrified at the notion "I'm a horrible person, Potter! Don't ever offend me with the notion that I'm a good one!" ).

The two boys divided their time between the tower and the Room, depending on the mood they were in. If they were in a music mood, it was the Room. If they were in a talking mood, it was up to the Tower. Never the room they shared, as that had too many inappropriate ideas attached to it. 

The colour of their walls still had yet to change, and it was much too Slytherin for Harry's taste. Although Harry's side of the room was constantly changing, just as the Blond's eyes did. Sometimes it was an icy silver that could chill even the warmest of hearts, and other times it was a soft grey, the colour of a comfortable cloudy day. Harry could never decide which one he liked more.

Draco's side of the room was very fitting with the rest of the castle, as it was nearly Christmas break, and the entirety of Hogwarts was adorned in red, green and white. Harry had the rather depressing thought that there was so much decorations because Mgonagall was trying to make up for all the 'missing' students. Then again, most of Harry's thoughts were either depressing or about Draco. 

The castle itself was quite beautiful, trees bursting with elegant decoration around every corner. Non cold snow had been enchanted to fall in several of the hallways, and sometimes just seeing it took Harry's breath away.

It was magic. He was magic. There was snow falling delicately onto the hallway floor and for some reason that nearly made Harry cry. It was snowing indoors. A sight even more beautiful could not seem possible. But it was.

He and Draco had been walking to the Room when he encountered one of said snowing hallways. The Slytherin started giggling like a child, spinning in a circle, snow whirling around him in a beautiful dance. Just as Harry started laughing along, Draco stopped and turned to Harry, less then a foot away. Snow fell around them in a gentle cascade. Looking at Harry through his long eyelashes, Harry noticed the small white snowflakes on Draco's eyelashes, and the casual elegance of Draco's dark clothes (Even if it was only a loose long sleeve black shirt and more of those damned skinny jeans). Breathless from laughing, their breath curling in a smokey embrace, Harry realised this wasn't a simple crush. Damn it all. He was in love.

He was in love with Draco Malfoy.

He really wanted to kiss Draco in that moment but he resisted, not until Draco was ready. He would wait forever for the slightly broken boy in front of him.

/*/*/*/*/*

Harry had no idea where he was going for Christmas break. Certainly not the Dursley's, and he didn't know if he could handle the Burrow. He supposed that he would just stay at the castle over break.

Break started tomorrow, and today was their last day of class. He had really ought to decide for sure.

"What are you doing for break?" Harry asked Draco, who lay on the bed over from his. He hoped the blond wasn't going back to the manor, as it was where both of his parents had died. 

Draco turned over onto his side, scars shining on his bare chest. Harry had already apologised relentlessly for the bathroom incident, and Draco had replied annoyed, "Shut it, Potter. I've had enough with your apologies! People love a man with scars anyway!"

"I'm going to find and kill my mothers murderer." Draco said calmly.

Well then.

Harry was unable to hold in his sarcasm (Both boys appreciated finding someone as sarcastic as they were), "Sounds like a pleasant vacation."

The blond blew at the loose hair falling in front of his now icy silver eyes, "Want to come?"

Feeling touched, Harry supposed it was because the blond had even considered him at all. "Really?"

As the Slytherin got out of bed, Harry saw that he was only wearing boxer briefs, showing off the pale thin limbs and torso. His own pants began to feel tighter. Draco smirked at him, "But only because having the Saviour of the Wizarding World with me in case I get caught might help."

Harry hoped that this was one of those times where there was a hidden meaning in the message, and he hoped that hidden meaning was I want you to come (Don't make it inappropriate Potter) because I enjoy your company and also want to snog you. 

"Naturally," He replied.

Draco cocked his head at Harry, "Spending time with me had done wonders for your vocabulary."

"No- I mean... I've always... I-"

"Or not," Draco laughed, picking up his tight little outfit for the day and heading to the bathroom.

"Fuck you!" Harry called after the elegant sweeping back as it walked into the bathroom.

Draco had v-lines. Merlin, you're not a teenager Harry, control yourself. 

"What impressive vocabulary!" Draco drawled as he shut the bathroom door behind him. Through the sarcasm, Draco was actually being quite considerate. He had discovered how much Harry hated mirrors, and without even thinking of it, switched changing places with Harry, leaving Harry with a mirrorless room.

/*/*/*/*/*

Charms passed by quickly, Harry taking no notice of the class. He'd pass it anyway. None of the professors would fail him anyway. They'd never fail the Saviour of the Wizarding World. 

His next class was Study of Magic Runes, a class he shared with both Draco and Hermione. 

As he slipped into the seat next to the bushy haired girl, she leaned over to him, "Are you coming to the Burrow over break?"

He shook his head, and looked over at Draco to see the blond quickly glancing away from him. "I'm doing stuff with Draco."

Hermione looked over at him in surprise, thick eyebrows drawn together, "Are you being safe?"

"Safe?" Harry questioned.

Blushing, Hermione started, "You know, condoms and-"

"Hermione!" Harry whispered furiously, "We haven't even kissed yet!" 

Harry was sure not even his dark skin could cover up the blush that was spreading throughout his face and neck. Hermione looked confused, "You haven't? Then what have you been doing?"

"We were just hanging out!" Harry whispered, not wanting to bring attention to this horribly awkward conversation, "And he'd play his instruments and stuff-"

"Is it a healthy relationship?"

Even all these questions were just coming out of concern, Harry couldn't help but being annoyed. "I'm a big boy, Hermione," Harry sighed, "And yes it is."

She raised her hands defensively, "Sorry, Harry, I just don't you want to get hurt."

Laughing darkly, Harry replied, "I don't think it's possible for me to get hurt anymore."

Looking rather disturbed, Hermione said nothing more as their professor had just walked into the classroom.

After class, Harry was about to leave with Hermione when Draco grabbed his sleeve and tugged him to the side. The dark skinned girl paused for Harry, but Harry waved her away. The two boys soon stood alone in the corridor outside the classroom. Draco's hair was perfect as always, and his outfit was intricately planned to look nonchalant but Harry knew Draco too well. 

"What was Granger talking about that made you blush so hard?" Draco smirked, probably knowing that it was about him.

"Looking that closely," Harry replied, not giving into Draco's prodding, "Were you?"

It was Draco's turn to blush, his pale skin turning soft pink, "Shut it, Potter. No seriously," (Harry felt like making a horrible pun) "What did she say?"

Great, now he was blushing again, "Just something about being 'safe'."

"Safe?" Draco inquired, "Nothing to do with you is 'safe'."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, intrigued rather than offended.

The Slytherin started walking, tugging Harry along with him, "You, yourself, everything about you is unsafe. Unknown." 

"Poetic."

""Like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet..."" Draco quoted, at least Harry assumed it was.

"What's that from?"

"Oh just something I heard."

"So what are you," Harry turned to look at the other boy, green eyes inquisitive, "Lover or Sad?"

"Both," Draco replied softly, "And sometimes, neither."

"Once again," Harry laughed, "Poetic."

Draco chuckled along, and then asked, "What about you, Potter? Any hidden poems?"

"None that I'll ever share with you," Harry muttered, recalling the poem he had written in reply to the poem Ginny had written.

Nudging Harry with his elbow, Draco questioned, "Come on, Potter! Share!"

"Fine. There was this poem I wrote in response to that horrible little poem Ginny wrote for me in second year. You laughed at it remember?"

Draco went silent, "What did you write in reply?" He finally said.

"Just that I didn't feel that way for her that way and stuff, it was stupid, I never gave it to her."

"What would you say," murmured Draco, "If I told you it was actually me who wrote that poem?"

Harry stopped still, "It was?!"

A blushing mess, Draco speed walked away from Harry, "We're leaving tonight after dinner!" He shouted back to Harry, "Pack enough clothes for the next two weeks!"

/*/*/*/*/*

The last dinner before break went by in a rush of food and laughter. After saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione, Harry and Draco walked silently through the fields outside of Hogwarts, darkness already descended upon the sky, but not quite dark enough for there to be stars.

They were going to apparate to a hotel as soon as they reached the end of the wards. The next day they were going to go to the manor and begin tracking Narcissa's killer. Draco rightly suspected the Aurors didn't investigate hard enough into her murder because she had been married to a Death Eater.

As they walked past the wards, Harry looked over at the boy next to him, who stood with a small determined smile on his face. A rush of odd happiness swept through him. As cold wind crept through the long grass, making it look like a sea, Harry gripped onto Draco's hand.

Suddenly the world turned upside down as Draco apparated away, leaving Hogwarts standing in its homeliness, the lights from the many windows still twinkling in Harry's eyes.

Off to find a killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	14. Chapter 14

They hadn't kissed.

They hadn't fucking kissed. 

It had been over a week since they had nearly kissed in the infirmary and they hadn't fucking kissed. It had never been like this with Cho or Ginny, never. He'd enjoyed their company immensely, and sure, of course he had thought about kissing them, but he wasn't completely desperate for them like he was with Draco.

However, it wasn't like Draco's lips were the only thing he craved, and Harry would be perfectly fine hanging around Draco, as friends, because he did simply enjoy the Slytherin's company. No matter how much of a snob he could be (And he could be a huge snob). 

He just wanted to be around Draco and make Draco feel all the things he felt. And he felt nothing but fire. Burning, feeling fire. In those moments where their lips were just so fucking close, that fire threatened to burn him up. He was desperate to press their lips together and truly burn alive.

They had been so close too, and then Draco would smile that horrible little smile and Harry would suffer a little longer. He originally thought it was because Draco was a terrible bastard who wanted him to suffer, but then he saw behind the mask. Draco was very good at covering up his feelings, too good. He shouldn't of been that good, because it was a talent only developed after years of practice. But, Harry knew him too well. 

Draco was scared.

Harry didn't know what he was scared of. Was it him? Was it moving on with whatever they felt for each other? What was it? Whatever it was, it threatened to eat Harry alive. However, he let himself suffer, he deserved it after all. He would live the rest of his life suffering if it meant spending time with Draco, he just didn't want the Slytherin to suffer too. 

So he continued as normal, as if his insides didn't burst into flames whenever he saw Draco.

The past eight days had been nothing but snippy conversations, awkward goodnights and listening to Draco play his various instruments. 

Holy shit, he did play play a lot instruments. And he was amazing at playing all of them. Harry adored the face Draco spouted when he played, it was just so peaceful and relaxed, yet wrinkled in concentration. Whenever he was playing a swooping, slightly easier part, his eyes would close delicately, long pale eyelashes beautiful. And whenever he was playing a slightly harder part, his perfect eyebrows would furrow in elegant concentration.

He could watch Draco play for hours. And he had. 

Three hours to be exact. Afterwards Draco had looked up in surprise, "You're still here?"

"I never left," Harry had replied, "You honestly didn't notice me?"

Draco had scoffed, "I don't tend to notice people when I play..."

"Not. Even. Me!?" Harry had said dramatically, reaching an offended hand to his chest.

"Especially not you, you're not noticeable at all!" Draco's pale blond hair had been slightly roughed up, and his hand had limply held his viola at his side. 

The Gryffindor had burst into laughter, "Because the Boy who Lived isn't noticeable at all!"

He was still amazed that Draco even stuck by him, after admitting to all those horrible things he had done. 

"Actually no, you're too noticeable-"

Harry had given Draco the look of told you, and Draco had scowled back at him.

"-because your hair is atrocious! Simply looking at it makes people want to hurl!"

"You really love hair don't you?" Harry had pondered sarcastically, "Have a hair fetish?"

Draco had looked extremely offended, and the Room of Requirement summoned a glove which had promptly slapped Harry across the face. 

The Room of Requirement seemed to be in love with Draco, as it always took Draco's side. Harry suspected it was because Draco had been the one to rebuild it over the summer, or perhaps it was because they room detected how pure of a person Draco was (Although Draco would be horrified at the notion "I'm a horrible person, Potter! Don't ever offend me with the notion that I'm a good one!" ).

The two boys divided their time between the tower and the Room, depending on the mood they were in. If they were in a music mood, it was the Room. If they were in a talking mood, it was up to the Tower. Never the room they shared, as that had too many inappropriate ideas attached to it. 

The colour of their walls still had yet to change, and it was much too Slytherin for Harry's taste. Although Harry's side of the room was constantly changing, just as the Blond's eyes did. Sometimes it was an icy silver that could chill even the warmest of hearts, and other times it was a soft grey, the colour of a comfortable cloudy day. Harry could never decide which one he liked more.

Draco's side of the room was very fitting with the rest of the castle, as it was nearly Christmas break, and the entirety of Hogwarts was adorned in red, green and white. Harry had the rather depressing thought that there was so much decorations because Mgonagall was trying to make up for all the 'missing' students. Then again, most of Harry's thoughts were either depressing or about Draco. 

The castle itself was quite beautiful, trees bursting with elegant decoration around every corner. Non cold snow had been enchanted to fall in several of the hallways, and sometimes just seeing it took Harry's breath away.

It was magic. He was magic. There was snow falling delicately onto the hallway floor and for some reason that nearly made Harry cry. It was snowing indoors. A sight even more beautiful could not seem possible. But it was.

He and Draco had been walking to the Room when he encountered one of said snowing hallways. The Slytherin started giggling like a child, spinning in a circle, snow whirling around him in a beautiful dance. Just as Harry started laughing along, Draco stopped and turned to Harry, less then a foot away. Snow fell around them in a gentle cascade. Looking at Harry through his long eyelashes, Harry noticed the small white snowflakes on Draco's eyelashes, and the casual elegance of Draco's dark clothes (Even if it was only a loose long sleeve black shirt and more of those damned skinny jeans). Breathless from laughing, their breath curling in a smokey embrace, Harry realised this wasn't a simple crush. Damn it all. He was in love.

He was in love with Draco Malfoy.

He really wanted to kiss Draco in that moment but he resisted, not until Draco was ready. He would wait forever for the slightly broken boy in front of him.

/*/*/*/*/*

Harry had no idea where he was going for Christmas break. Certainly not the Dursley's, and he didn't know if he could handle the Burrow. He supposed that he would just stay at the castle over break.

Break started tomorrow, and today was their last day of class. He had really ought to decide for sure.

"What are you doing for break?" Harry asked Draco, who lay on the bed over from his. He hoped the blond wasn't going back to the manor, as it was where both of his parents had died. 

Draco turned over onto his side, scars shining on his bare chest. Harry had already apologised relentlessly for the bathroom incident, and Draco had replied annoyed, "Shut it, Potter. I've had enough with your apologies! People love a man with scars anyway!"

"I'm going to find and kill my mothers murderer." Draco said calmly.

Well then.

Harry was unable to hold in his sarcasm (Both boys appreciated finding someone as sarcastic as they were), "Sounds like a pleasant vacation."

The blond blew at the loose hair falling in front of his now icy silver eyes, "Want to come?"

Feeling touched, Harry supposed it was because the blond had even considered him at all. "Really?"

As the Slytherin got out of bed, Harry saw that he was only wearing boxer briefs, showing off the pale thin limbs and torso. His own pants began to feel tighter. Draco smirked at him, "But only because having the Saviour of the Wizarding World with me in case I get caught might help."

Harry hoped that this was one of those times where there was a hidden meaning in the message, and he hoped that hidden meaning was I want you to come (Don't make it inappropriate Potter) because I enjoy your company and also want to snog you. 

"Naturally," He replied.

Draco cocked his head at Harry, "Spending time with me had done wonders for your vocabulary."

"No- I mean... I've always... I-"

"Or not," Draco laughed, picking up his tight little outfit for the day and heading to the bathroom.

"Fuck you!" Harry called after the elegant sweeping back as it walked into the bathroom.

Draco had v-lines. Merlin, you're not a teenager Harry, control yourself. 

"What impressive vocabulary!" Draco drawled as he shut the bathroom door behind him. Through the sarcasm, Draco was actually being quite considerate. He had discovered how much Harry hated mirrors, and without even thinking of it, switched changing places with Harry, leaving Harry with a mirrorless room.

/*/*/*/*/*

Charms passed by quickly, Harry taking no notice of the class. He'd pass it anyway. None of the professors would fail him anyway. They'd never fail the Saviour of the Wizarding World. 

His next class was Study of Magic Runes, a class he shared with both Draco and Hermione. 

As he slipped into the seat next to the bushy haired girl, she leaned over to him, "Are you coming to the Burrow over break?"

He shook his head, and looked over at Draco to see the blond quickly glancing away from him. "I'm doing stuff with Draco."

Hermione looked over at him in surprise, thick eyebrows drawn together, "Are you being safe?"

"Safe?" Harry questioned.

Blushing, Hermione started, "You know, condoms and-"

"Hermione!" Harry whispered furiously, "We haven't even kissed yet!" 

Harry was sure not even his dark skin could cover up the blush that was spreading throughout his face and neck. Hermione looked confused, "You haven't? Then what have you been doing?"

"We were just hanging out!" Harry whispered, not wanting to bring attention to this horribly awkward conversation, "And he'd play his instruments and stuff-"

"Is it a healthy relationship?"

Even all these questions were just coming out of concern, Harry couldn't help but being annoyed. "I'm a big boy, Hermione," Harry sighed, "And yes it is."

She raised her hands defensively, "Sorry, Harry, I just don't you want to get hurt."

Laughing darkly, Harry replied, "I don't think it's possible for me to get hurt anymore."

Looking rather disturbed, Hermione said nothing more as their professor had just walked into the classroom.

After class, Harry was about to leave with Hermione when Draco grabbed his sleeve and tugged him to the side. The dark skinned girl paused for Harry, but Harry waved her away. The two boys soon stood alone in the corridor outside the classroom. Draco's hair was perfect as always, and his outfit was intricately planned to look nonchalant but Harry knew Draco too well. 

"What was Granger talking about that made you blush so hard?" Draco smirked, probably knowing that it was about him.

"Looking that closely," Harry replied, not giving into Draco's prodding, "Were you?"

It was Draco's turn to blush, his pale skin turning soft pink, "Shut it, Potter. No seriously," (Harry felt like making a horrible pun) "What did she say?"

Great, now he was blushing again, "Just something about being 'safe'."

"Safe?" Draco inquired, "Nothing to do with you is 'safe'."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, intrigued rather than offended.

The Slytherin started walking, tugging Harry along with him, "You, yourself, everything about you is unsafe. Unknown." 

"Poetic."

""Like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet..."" Draco quoted, at least Harry assumed it was.

"What's that from?"

"Oh just something I heard."

"So what are you," Harry turned to look at the other boy, green eyes inquisitive, "Lover or Sad?"

"Both," Draco replied softly, "And sometimes, neither."

"Once again," Harry laughed, "Poetic."

Draco chuckled along, and then asked, "What about you, Potter? Any hidden poems?"

"None that I'll ever share with you," Harry muttered, recalling the poem he had written in reply to the poem Ginny had written.

Nudging Harry with his elbow, Draco questioned, "Come on, Potter! Share!"

"Fine. There was this poem I wrote in response to that horrible little poem Ginny wrote for me in second year. You laughed at it remember?"

Draco went silent, "What did you write in reply?" He finally said.

"Just that I didn't feel that way for her that way and stuff, it was stupid, I never gave it to her."

"What would you say," murmured Draco, "If I told you it was actually me who wrote that poem?"

Harry stopped still, "It was?!"

A blushing mess, Draco speed walked away from Harry, "We're leaving tonight after dinner!" He shouted back to Harry, "Pack enough clothes for the next two weeks!"

/*/*/*/*/*

The last dinner before break went by in a rush of food and laughter. After saying goodbye to Ron and Hermione, Harry and Draco walked silently through the fields outside of Hogwarts, darkness already descended upon the sky, but not quite dark enough for there to be stars.

They were going to apparate to a hotel as soon as they reached the end of the wards. The next day they were going to go to the manor and begin tracking Narcissa's killer. Draco rightly suspected the Aurors didn't investigate hard enough into her murder because she had been married to a Death Eater.

As they walked past the wards, Harry looked over at the boy next to him, who stood with a small determined smile on his face. A rush of odd happiness swept through him. As cold wind crept through the long grass, making it look like a sea, Harry gripped onto Draco's hand.

Suddenly the world turned upside down as Draco apparated away, leaving Hogwarts standing in its homeliness, the lights from the many windows still twinkling in Harry's eyes.

Off to find a killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and suspense

"There's only one bed?!" Draco shouted at the man at the front desk, "My family had funded this hotel for years! And you can't even get me a room with two beds!"

The man stared up at Draco through his thick brown moustache, completely unafraid. Harry supposed it was because he had to deal with the Malfoy family for years, as Draco had said before. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Malfoy. We have no other rooms available-"

"Then kick someone out!" 

Standing awkwardly in the background, Harry mouthed 'sorry' to the man at the desk, who simply just nodded slightly back. "I hope you understand, Mr. Malfoy, that we cannot do that-"

"Like hell, you can't! I will have you fir-"

"Draco," Harry interrupted, "I'm okay with sharing... I mean..." Damn it Harry, don't make it sexual, "I mean...?"

The blond looked back at Harry, a soft expression covering the icy rage, "You will?" Before Harry could reply Draco turned back to the bushy haired man, "At least tell me its a King sized bed?"

"Of course. And, Mr. Malfoy, my condolences," Immediately Draco's expression disappeared, replaced by an empty mask.

Draco smiled emptily at him, "Thank you."

The moustached man simply bowed in return, before calling for a bag boy to grab Harry's backpack and Draco's three full size suitcases (dark emerald of course). As they stepped into the elevator to magically transport them to their floor in seconds, Harry turned blushingly to Draco, "I... I..."

The blond smiled softly, not looking at Harry, "And here I thought spending time with me had improved your vocabulary," The elevator came to a smooth stop on the 67th floor, and the two swept onto the carpeted floor. 

The hotel was themed a light tan colour and white, neutral to anybody who still weren't over their Hogwarts days (Although Harry supposed Ravenclaw's could argue it was slightly like their house colours). "Did your family help with the colouring?" 

The Slytherin looked briefly disgusted, "We tried. They didn't support the all green and silver idea. Apparently it's too 'Slytherin'. My father nearly halted his investment, before my moth... mother calmed him down." Draco's mask returned-

"Don't!" Harry shouted, startling Draco.

"Don't what?" Draco questioned, before smirking, "And ten galleons."

"Don't... Don't put on that mask."

"I'm not wearing a mask, obviously, Harry."

"You... You just called me Harry?" Oh my Merlin, Draco had only called him Harry before in times of extreme and immediate danger. He would talk about 'the mask' with Draco later.

"No, I didn't."

"You can call me Harry, you know. It's not a bad word."

"Actually," Draco drawled, "It's a horrible word. And name. Who wan't to be named after hair"

"I thought you were the one with a hair fetish?"

"I absolutely despise you, Potter." They had reached their room by now, a white door among a hallway of others.

"Too bad you don't have the Room of Requirement."

Draco pulled out his wand, which was charmed to open the room. After a slight beep, the room opened on its own, showing a humongous bed in the middle of the large room.

"This room is tiny!" Draco complained, throwing his hands up.

"No, this room is huge. Oh my Merlin, they had hotel rooms this large?" Harry was over acting how he actually felt about the size of the room, in the single purpose to piss Draco off, "And the bed!"

"I get it, Potter. Let's just go to bed."

Harry felt like waggling his eyebrows suggestively, but decided against it. Without saying a word, the two boys slipped into their normal routine, Draco traveling to the bathroom so they could both change. 

Slipping onto the right side of the bed, he raised his wand to turn off the lights. As he lay in the dark, he felt the bed dip, even as it was a long ways away on the vast king bed. 

"Goodnight, Draco," Harry whispered, his back facing the other boy.

Draco groaned, and reached one white arm (the dark made his skin practically glowing) to slap Harry softly. "Go the fuck to sleep," But for some reason Draco's hand stayed there, resting against Harry's shirt. Harry could feel Draco's cold fingers through his loose top. 

"Love you too," Harry joked softly, realising afterwards that his sarcastic statement might be mistaken for something else.

He was quite nearly falling asleep when he thought he heard a faint whisper, "You have no idea, Harry Potter."

/*/*/*/*/*

Draco had no idea why he thought sharing a bed with Harry Potter would be a good idea. Because here he was, his face pressed against Potter's neck, and Potter's arms draped around him. He had never felt so safe and scared at the same time.

He had been having a nightmare, shaking and sweating, when he woke up pressed against the other boy.

"Shhh," Potter had whispered, not even awake, "It's okay. You're okay..." Draco had looked up at Potter, who's eyes were still closed, his mouth mumbling other comforts. His arms had wrapped around Draco, rubbing his bare back soothingly. Damnit Potter was so warm.

Whatever nightmare he had been dreaming of, disappeared. Draco's hands were pressed against Potter's shirted chest, the illuminated pale fingers wrinkling the loose shirt. How many times had he fantasised about this?

Draco was so scared.

This is why he had resisted kissing Potter the past week, because what if Potter pushed him away?

What if Potter woke up from whatever fairy world he was in and realised how worthless Draco was?

Draco could deal with Potter realising how horrible he was now, but not after they kissed. If they kissed, that meant it was real. 

Draco was trying very hard not to push Potter away, however, because what if it was real.

So Draco didn't push Potter away, he instead pressed closer to him, breathing in his scent (Peppermint and grass) and feeling warm and safe.

"Thank you, Potter," Draco breathed into Potter's warm neck.

Potter shifted a bit, and then mumbled sleepily, "Harry."

"What?" questioned Draco softly, minutes from sleep.

Suddenly Potter's open eyes were staring into Draco's, and their lips were so close. Don't Draco. What if he pushes you away? "My name is Harry. If you call me Potter one more time, I will push you off this bed."

"Goodnight, _Potter_ ," Draco made sure to emphasise Potter. Suddenly he found himself on the cold floor. "How. Dare. Yo-"

"Told you," Potter groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Picking himself up elegantly, Draco pushed his way back onto the bed, "It's two in the fucking morning, can we sleep, _Harry_."

Smiling, Potter flopped back onto the bed, "I like it when you call me that."

"Sleep." 

Draco laid on his side of the bed, slightly cold because he hadn't slept there since when he first got into bed. "What are you doing?" Potter asked, tugging on Draco's hand.

"Trying to sleep!" 

Suddenly he found himself against Potter's chest again, "I mean, what are you doing?"

"Only because you're warm," Draco protested, as he immediately snuggled closer to Potter.

"Of course," Harry mumbled, wrapping an arm lazily around Draco, already close to sleep again, "Goodnight..."

"I'd already be asleep," Draco muttered into Harry's neck, "If you hadn't pushed me off the bed."

But Harry was already asleep, snoring softly. Surrounded by warmth and safety, Draco let himself surrender to exhaustion.

/*/*/*/*/*

When Harry woke up, Draco was already gone. Glancing around the room, he noticed two letters sitting on the table near the window. Stumbling out of bed, he walked over to grab the letters. One was simply a note from Draco, reading:

_Harry_ (Which was crossed out) _Potter,_

_I've headed to the Manor, you can meet me there, I opened the wards to you. Sorry I left so early, it's just your insufferable snoring prevented me from sleeping. I left breakfast next to this letter. Take care to eat it. Also, Granger's owl dropped off a letter. I got it for you, and that horrible owl bit you. I hope the letter is worth my flawless completion._

_See you at the Manor,_

_Draco_ (Crossed out) _Malfoy._

Harry was immediately concerned, would Draco be okay? He was traveling to the place in which he had suffered in for years, in which Voldemort had stayed and tortured people, in which both of his parents had died. Making up his mind to read Hermione's letter on the way to the manor, he quickly pulled on some clothes, not really caring whether they were matching or not. He shoved the muffin into his mouth, nearly choking.

He gave one more quick glance around the room, before rushing to the Wizard elevator, wand tucked into his back pocket. He had given Draco's wand back to him right after the war. Both boys were exhausted, and they simply nodded to each other, Draco (Or Malfoy back then) muttering a thank you. 

The Wizard elevator brought Harry to the ground floor in seconds, several people staring at him when he exited. Was his outfit really that mismatched? Looking down, Harry thought, no, it wasn't. He was just wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt. Then Harry realised he had forgot to fix his hair to cover his scar.

Whispers of "It's Harry Potter!" and "He defeated You Know Who!" spread across the lobby. Brushing his hands through his hair, he made his hair cover his scar, before scurrying to the apparating area.

"Mr. Potter!" A little boy interrupted him, "I just want to let you know that you're amazing and I love-"

"Thank... Thanks," Harry stuttered, smiling nervously down at the little boy, who looked to be about seven. 

The boy smiled widely up at him, proudly showing two missing teeth, "Could I have your auto... autopraph?"

"Autograph, dear," A middle aged woman corrected him. She then looked up at Harry, "I'm sorry if he's disturbing you, Mr. Potter."

"No!" Harry said nervously, "He's fine."

"Yeah, Mum," The little boy stuck out his tongue, "I'm fine. So could I have an autograph?"

"S... Sure. Do you have a pen... or something?" 

The boy's mum pulled out a muggle pen and a piece of paper, "Thank you so much, Mr. Potter."

"You're welcome," He said, giving the signed paper to the little boy, who then smiled toothily and hugged his legs.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Harry smiled, this wasn't that bad. Suddenly there was a group of wizards and witches surrounding him, asking for signatures and pieces of clothing. "I..." he tried, before apparting right there and then.

Suddenly he was in the Malfoy Manor, half of his glasses missing.

"What happened to you?" Draco inquired, sounding a little disgusted.

"There was this boy, and he wanted an autograph. So I gave it to him! And he was so cute so I thought it was fine, but then, fucking everyone in the room surrounded me, so I just apparated away."

The blond laughed, although Harry noted it sounded a little empty (He needed to get Draco out of this manor), "Well that's one way to deal with things."

"Shut up," Harry protested, "It was terrifying!"

"The Saviour of the Wizarding World, scared of a group of fans!" Harry also noted that Draco looked about two shades paler.

"Have you gone into the room yet?" Harry asked, wondering if that was why Draco was so pale.

The Slytherin gulped, "Er, not yet. I was waiting for you."

"You okay to go now?" 

"Of course I'm okay, Merlin Potter, I'm not five." 

"Okay," Harry said before grabbing Draco's hand and trusting Draco to lead them to the right room.

"Ten Galleons," Draco whispered, before pushing open a grand door.

The Auror's hadn't even bothered to clean up the crime scene, and the entire room was a mess. Books were scattered throughout the room, along with book pages. There was a broken wine glass on the floor, probably from when she fell to the ground. The room itself wasn't very big, and the walls were painted a pale yellow.

"The room doesn't seem very Malfoy?" 

Draco looked around, "It was my Mother's private room. Yellow is-- Was her favourite colour."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, placing a comforting hand on Draco's lower back.

"I'm fine, Potter."

"Harry," He corrected on instinct.

"Look for clues or stuff, Potter."

Harry didn't know exactly what to look for, but he began to shuffle through the books on the floor, as Draco looked around on the shelves.

Nothing, and more nothing.

Suddenly Hermione's letter fell out of his pocket onto the floor. He had completely forgotten about it. Opening it, he completely tore the envelope in half, "Shit," He muttered.

"What happened?" Draco inquired, "Did you find anything?"

"No, just accidentally ripped Hermione's letter."

"Oh," Draco said, disappointed.

"Ten galleons," Harry tried to lighten the mood.

Draco raised a certain finger at Harry, "Just read your letter."

Raising his hands in surrender, Harry turned back to the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_This letter contains very private information, and the envelope was charmed to only let you open in. Please make sure Malfoy can't read this._

_Listen Harry, please stay calm._

Harry was nervous, this sounded very serious.

_I know who killed Narcissa Malfoy._

Harry nearly dropped the letter in shock. 

_They didn't mean to. Unlike what the Auror report said, Mrs. Malfoy wasn't killed with a spell, but rather something hit her neck in exactly the right, or wrong way. The person who did it didn't meant to. They were having a bad day, after the war and all. Obviously that doesn't excuse what happened, but they are truly regretful for what happened. Afterwards they tried to kill themselves, only to be stopped._

_Mrs. Malfoy had been going around visiting people to apologise. When she reached the person's house, the person followed her home to confront her some more. They didn't like what she said, and in their anger, they cast a spell at the wall behind her. They only wanted to scare her. But it accidentally hit a shelf and a book fell on her neck, in the exact right, or wrong place._

Harry tried to imagine how a book could hit someone's neck, maybe she was looking up. That would make sense, as she was probably looking at where the spell hit.

_The person ran over to check if she was okay. When seeing she couldn't breath, they tried to help her, but they couldn't do anything. When she died, the person went home to write a goodbye letter to their family. They then were going to jump. They were caught before they and are currently being cared for._

_They admitted to me all of this, after I talked to him about Fred, and how close Fred and I were._

Was it a Weasley? No. It couldn't be. They were his family. It couldn't ever be.

_You see, and I extremely regret to say, the person who killed Narcissa Malfoy is George. George Weasley._

/*/*/*/*/*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops i forgot to update on here

Harry stared at the letter numbly. This wasn't possible. Not George. Not one of his closest friends, who brought him into the pranking world with a laugh. Sure, the man had been greatly changed by his twin brother's death, who wouldn't be. But he wasn't capable of this. He couldn't be.

He had to talk to George. This couldn't be right. What would he do with Draco?

"Draco," Harry whispered anxiously, "I know-"

Draco turned to Harry, an icy fire in his eyes, "Who is it! Tell me!"

"Before I tell you, you can't kill him-"

"I'll do whatever I damn wish!" Draco screamed, "They killed my mother! She was the only good thing in my life, Harry! The only good thing!" Draco's face was red, and he seemed to be close to tears. But then he put on his mask, and his voice became horrifyingly calm, "Tell me."

"Er..." Harry put his hands over his face, letter still in his hands, "Just read the letter," he rasped.

The Slytherin snatched the letter, nearly tearing it. His eyes moved furiously before they stopped suddenly, icy and silver. Draco dropped the letter, face determined, "We're going to see him-"

"Are you going to do anything?" Harry asked anxiously, "Because I know you have a right but-"

"I'm not going to hurt him," Draco whispered, face void of any emotion, "I need to know..." His masked cracked to show complete agony, before he covered it up again, "I need to know what she said. I need to know her last... her last words."

"Okay," Harry replied, voice hoarse, "We'll ask Hermione where he is."

Draco stepped towards Harry, face scrunched up in barely masked determination, "Now."

/*/*/*/*/*

Draco had no idea what he felt right now. Only that it was all bad. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to punch that Weasley. He wanted to punch all the Weasleys. He wanted to punch Harry. And then he wanted to kiss Harry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to die. HE WANTED HIS MOTHER.

But she was dead.

His mother, who would kiss his scrapes, saying, "Be strong now, my dragon." His mother, who hugged him fiercely against his father's wishes before he left for Hogwarts. His mother, who sent him a letter everyday, and sweets once a week, up till 7th year when she stopped because he was home (That word hadn't applied then, but he didn't know what else to call it). His mother, who didn't say anything after was marked, only held him as he cried and cried. His mother, who would stand up to her husband for Draco only. His mother, who was almost a Hufflepuff because of her fierce loyalty. His mother, who secretly wished she had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

His mother, who was dead.

And George Weasley killed her.

/*/*/*/*/*

Hermione was staring out the window of the burrow, anxiously waiting for Harry's new owl to arrive with a letter. What if he told Malfoy? What if Malfoy killed George? It would be all her fault.

Molly had told her about George's attempt, and she immediately visited him at St. Mungos. Some how their conversation turned to Fred, and she had talked about their unlikely friendship. It was her reaction to finding out that Fred had a crush on her (She reacted like a mess, crying softly and blushing like crazy) that had prompted George to tell her what he did. 

After the visit, she had gone to the Burrow and ran over all the possibilities. She had no idea what to do with the information she had been given. She knew that Harry had gone off with Malfoy to search for Mrs. Malfoy's killer, (And unfortunately didn't any time to yell at him for that stupid decision), but she still didn't want to tell Harry what she knew. She knew it would kill Harry to ever bring Malfoy pain. 

But what if they had found something? What if they discovered it was George on their own? What would they do? 

Hermione decided it was safer just to tell Harry herself, giving him at least some time to decide what to do.

Suddenly they were in front of her in a rush of wind and papers fluttering to the ground. "Harry?" She questioned, silently asking if he had told Malfoy. She then looked at the blond, who stood with an icy mask and an empty gaze. Well, that answered her question.

"What happened?" Harry asked softly, glancing over to Malfoy in vivid concern.

When Malfoy looked back at Harry, Hermione could of sworn she saw his face soften, before he snapped over to look at her, "I want details," He practically growled, "Granger..."

"I..." 

Stumbling over what to say, Hermione saw Harry looking at her pleadingly. "I... Molly told me that he tried to... you know... and so I went to visit him at St. Mungos. We were talking and somehow we started talking about..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "About Fred-"

-Harry looked like he'd been punched-

"-And he said that Fred had liked... like liked liked me-"

"-Damn Granger," Draco drawled emotionally, seemingly only saying it out of obligation, " Getting all the Weasleys-"

Hermione's voice cracked, "And then he just told me everything. Mrs. Malfoy-"

-Now it was Malfoy's turn to look like he'd been punched-

"-Had been going around apologising to families who lost loved ones in the war, and she came here. Then George followed her to the manor and everything happened at once. I don't know anymore really, I'm so sorry." Hermione wiped away a few tears that managed to escape through her thick lashes.

"It's okay 'mione," Harry murmured, patting her awkwardly on the arm.

"What room?" Malfoy ordered, "What room is... is he in?"

"You're not going to do anything are you?" Hermione rushed, filled with immediate concern.

Malfoy sighed annoyed, "No. I'm not."

"Then why do you want to see him," She couldn't help but ask.

"Frankly," Malfoy stated harshly, "I don't think you have any right to know."

"Draco!" Harry scolded softly, still not wanting to hurt him, but unable to not defend his friends.

"What?" Malfoy protested, emotion returning when he looked at the brunet. If they hadn't realised they were meant for each other, Hermione was going to scream, "She doesn't!"

"Harry! It's fine. I'm trusting you, Malfoy-"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "-Back to Malfoy are we-"

"Room 15, in the mental health unit-" In a flash Malfoy disappeared, leaving Harry mumbling an apology before apparating after the Slytherin.

Feeling useless, Hermione leaned back into her chair. 

Couldn't they have one, one freaking normal year!

Apparently not.

/*/*/*/*/*

As Harry rushed to catch up with Draco, who was calmly speed walking down the hallway of the unit.

"Sir!" A nurse called to Draco, "Are you allowed to be here?"

Draco paused, Harry assumed to think of a response, before Harry interrupted him before he could even talk, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter-"

The nurse was shocked into complete silence, mouth gaping open in shock. "You get over the shock," Draco drawled, "He's actually quite boring-"

"We're here to see George," Harry interrupted Draco, "George Weasley."

After the nurse got over her initial shock, she nodded quickly, "Of course. Is there anything else I can do? Like... get you tea or something?"

"Er... I'm good... Thank you?" Harry replied, absolutely hating the special treatment.

"Stop kissing his ass and take us to the Weasley-"

"Draco!" Harry scolded, gripping his arm insistently.

"Oh," The young nurse stuttered, "Right this way." She led them down a white hallway, painted with too happy yellow sunshine. 

Wanting to whisper exactly how much he despised the horribly cheesy paintings to Draco, he resisted. Now was not the time. Draco needed silence, he needed a quiet comforting presence to hold him up. When they reached room 15, Harry felt Draco stiffen besides him.

"You okay?" Harry quietly asked.

"I will be," Draco replied simply.

"Visiting hour's end in an hour, so I'll be back to get you if you're still here," the nurse said opening the door, to reveal a hunched over man, staring blankly at the wall. 

"George..." Harry rasped, unable to keep it in.

Never had he seen someone so broken.

Except for himself.

George looked up, and Harry felt a flash of dismay go through him. Merlin, his eyes. They were shattered, nothing but raw agony shining through.

"Malfoy?" George choked, stumbling over to where they stood, staring. "Kill me, please. You have the right too, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Kill me." He was on his knees, eyes red and blotchy.

"Get up," Draco demanded. Don't get involved Harry. "Get up you pathetic man!"

"I can't," George cried, "I deserve to be here!"

The Slytherin pulled him up roughly, "Listen to me. We all lost someone! We all want answers! But we all need to move on with our lives. Including me and including you."

"Yes, you killed my mother. But it is not your fault, you only wanted answers and you got angry. That's completely fucking understandable. So listen to me, you pathetic man, I. Forgive. You."

They were both crying, tears streaming down their faces, as Harry stood in the background trying to stop himself from crying too. 

"But please. I need one thing-"

"Anything!"

"What... what were her last words?" Draco was finally showing emotion, and it was nothing but pleading.

"I'm so sorry."

"You can't remember!" Draco cried, throwing his hands up in the air. 

The white room seemed so dim, "No. Those were her last words, 'I'm for sorry.'"

Draco just stood there, saying nothing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't! Don't say that!"

George collapsed to the ground again, "I deserve to die," he sobbed.

"No. You don't. You deserve to get better. So fucking get better!" With that final statement, Draco walked briskly out of the room, mask on once more.

"Bye. George," Harry mumbled, "I love you, man."

George didn't say anything in response.

/*/*/*/*/*

The two briskly left, apparating as soon as they left the wards. Within seconds, they were in the lobby, rushing to the magical elevators. Harry tried to talk to Draco, but he simply held up a hand, not yet.

They reached their room, and Draco exploded.

"She wanted her last word to be unquote. Harry, she wanted her last word to be unquote! Do you know why?! BECAUSE HER FIRST WORD WAS QUOTE! But FUCKING NO! Her last word's were "I'm so sorry.""

"Draco-"

"The worst part is, I couldn't even be mad at him, he was just so pathetic. I want to be mad at him, Harry, I want to, but I just can't" Draco was crying now, screaming out all his words.

"She was the only good thing in my life during 6th year, the only good thing. And now she's dead. SHE'S DEAD. And I have no idea what to do now. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M FEELING! "

"Draco-"

"I want to be mad, but I can't. I just feel so fucking empty."

"I think I'm broken, Harry. I'm utterly broken."

"Draco, I'm utterly broken too. That's what war and every single bad thing in our life does! We're utterly broken, but maybe we can fix each other."

The blond stared up at him, eyes wide with tears, face puffy and red. Harry wanted to kiss the blond so badly. 

And then Draco kissed him.

/*/*/*/*/*

He didn't know what he was feeling, only that the pressure between their lips was so fucking right. 

To hell with it all.

If Harry ditched him, maybe it would be worth it.

/*/*/*/*/*

He tasted like pine needles and tea. It was addictive. Draco sucked on his lips, tongue slowly opening Harry's mouth. Harry's arms wrapped around the blond's waist. One of Draco's hands gripped Harry's cheek, the other wrapped around Harry's neck, pulling their heads closer. They pushed up onto each other, dancing a hot wild dance.

This. This is why he'd wait an eternity for Draco. 

/*/*/*/*/*

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, Draco's head on his chest (Fully clothed, by the way). Harry swept his fingers through Draco's hair, the blond practically purring.

"When did you first realised you liked me?" Harry asked softly.

Smiling, Draco looked up at Harry, "I liked you forever, I just didn't realise it. I finally discovered that I did however, in 4th year. You were fighting that bloody dragon, and I realised, I would miss him if he died. And I was also extremely jealous of Ron during the second task, so..."

"I first realised it in 7th year-"

"-I'm slightly offended-"

"-I thought you were a prat," Harry continued, as if Draco hadn't said anything, "I just didn't realise you were a handsome one. Until 7th year in the Room of Requirement. I couldn't stand the thought of you dying, so I saved you."

"Thank you, by the way, for saving me," Draco smiled up at Harry, pressing a brief kiss to Harry's nose.

Harry pressed a long slow kiss to Draco's lips, smiling into the kiss. 

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally kissed you're welcome


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff

Was he happy? 

Harry certainly didn't know that. But was he content? That was a definite yes. Who would have known it would be Draco Malfoy to make him content?

They had stayed in the hotel for the rest of Christmas break, kissing and cuddling and maybe a bit of crying too. Then they received an invitation to the Burrow for Christmas dinner, and to both of their surprise, it was addressed to both of them.

"Should we go?" Harry asked Draco, after he had just read the letter out loud to the both of them.

The blond swept his hair out of his face, pale pink lips pursed, "Do you want to?"

Harry was laying on their bed, his head leaning over the edge of the bed, looking up at Draco, his body adorned in loose comfortable clothing. Draco himself was wearing one of Harry's bigger t-shirts and his own fancy silk boxers. To Harry, he had never looked more beautiful. "It would be nice, but if you don't want to-"

Placing a chaste comforting kiss on Harry's upside down lips, Draco responded smiling, "If you want to go, we can go." Harry got up from his not so comfortable position, as blood had been rushing to his face.

"If you don't want to go, it's fine-"

"-Potter," Draco interrupted, "I said it's fine." As he began to walk to get some proper clothes on, Harry jumped onto his back, nearly causing them both to fall to the ground, "Potter!" Draco complained at the sudden weight.

"I told you to call me Harry," Tightening his legs around Draco's waist, Harry growled into Draco's ear, before nibbling on it softly, causing Draco to forget whatever he was about to say.

"Harry..." Draco breathed, before turning around and connecting their lips desperately. Draco's hands found their way into Harry's hands, and Harry stumbled them over to the bed, before they fell onto it in a heap of limbs. Still, that didn't stop their lips from sucking frantically.

Weasley's who?

Harry's lips started to travel down Draco's jaw, before sucking hard on the side of Draco's pale neck, "Harry!" Draco protested, "You're gonna make a mark!" 

Continuing his violent exploration, Harry replied quickly, "Good. Everyone will know you're mine then-"

"-Harry! The Weasley's..." Draco started, before Harry found that one spot on his neck, rendering him to nothing but breathless moans. Usually Harry needed control, but when it came to Draco, every ounce of control evaporated, leaving Harry a mess. He didn't find Draco complaining however.

But... Fuck, the Weasley's.

Reluctantly, he got off of Draco, staring at the blushing blond below him. Pressing a brief kiss to Draco's lips, he stretched out his arms, before getting up to grab some proper clothes, "Are you sure? We don't have to go-"

"Pott-" Harry glared at him, "Harry, I swear to Merlin, I am fine with going!"

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Harry tossed Draco some clothes. He really wanted to go to the Weasley's, but hadn't wanted to force Draco into doing something he didn't want to, "Then get dressed you improper git," Harry smirked. 

Looking down at the clothes Harry had tossed him, Draco raised an eyebrow, "These are your clothes?" 

"10 points to Slytherin for observing the fucking obvious. Your clothes are too proper."

"My clothes are perfectly-"

"For the Weasley's?" This time it was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Fine." Draco huffed, before hurriedly changing into the slightly too large clothing. While Harry was an inch or two shorter then Draco, he was built a little wider. Harry was still scrawny as hell, Draco just happened to be slimmer.

"Ten galleons," Harry smiled, before realising something, "Actually, twenty galleons!"

"From when?" Draco ordered impatiently, not wanting to be beat at his own game.

An evil look appeared on Harry's face, "When you moaned my name, you indecent bastard-"

"-I did not moan your name!"

"Oh, yes you did," Harry's voice suddenly went a few pitches higher, " _Oh... Harry! I love you so much Harry! Harrryyy..._ " Harry then let out a moan so indecent and sexual, a porn star would have been impressed.

Already dressed in Harry's clothes, Draco stomped over to where Harry stood smirking his arrogant ass off, "I. Did. NOT!" He protested, but to no avail as Harry continued to moan and groan dramatically. Harry supposed the people in the room next over were probably very disturbed. Draco crossed his arms, nose pointed up and looking purposely away from Harry, "Fine, my lips are banned from now on-"

Raising a very offended arm to his chest, Harry gasped, "How dare you!"

"They're my lips anyway!" 

Harry ran over to Draco, and frantically pressed their lips together in an overdramatic protest to Draco's statement. He smirked internally when Draco kissed him back just as frantically. Draco couldn't resist him.

But it was okay, because Harry couldn't resist Draco either.

/*/*/*/*/*

An hour later, they arrived on the step of the Burrow, hurriedly smoothing down their slightly wrinkled clothing. Harry was wearing his Weasley sweater, the one with the H in the centre, while Draco was wearing another Weasley sweater, just one with no letter. He claimed he only wore it because it was green, but Harry suspected he actually liked the sweater because it was Harry's.

Suddenly the door opened, realising the warm scent of Christmas food and the sound of hearty laughter. Harry squeezed Draco's hand, before letting go to hug Molly back who had wrapped him up in a hard hug. "Harry!" She exclaimed, "I'm so glad you could make it!" She squeezed him one more time before moving on to hug Draco.

As the blond awkwardly patted the maternally woman on the back, Harry hoped everyone remembered his warning not to bring up Narcissa Malfoy. "I'm glad you both could make it," she said, before pulling them both back inside.

Inside, he was pulled into a hug by all the Weasley's, each saying a different variation of nice to see you. Harry tried very very hard not to notice how empty the room seemed without Fred and George. From the slight discomfort on all the other's faces, it seemed like they were noticing the same thing.

"Hi Draco," Luna waved to Draco from her seat next to Ginny, "You should play us some Christmas music."

Everyone turned to look at Draco who stood awkwardly next to Harry, "I never really learned any-"

"Is that Harry's sweater?" Charlie interrupted, before it dawned on him, "Oh..." He blushed, "Sorry-"

"Wait," Ginny implored, "Are you two?"

"Er..." Harry murmured awkwardly, looking at the full Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, instead of everyone else. He hadn't planned to come out to all of them now.

Draco looked over at Harry questionably, _Can we tell them?_ In surprise, Harry nodded, _If you want to, I'm fine with it._

"Yes?" Harry said, blushing.

Hermione lept up from next to a blushing Ron and yelped excitedly, "I knew it!" The rest of them remained silent, staring at the two boys standing in front of them.

The silence was interrupted by Luna, "Draco's good. He just got trapped on the bad side-"

"-If you want me to leave, I can go..." Draco turned to leave, when Molly grabbed his shoulder.

"No, dear. We're just surprised, that's all. Stay," Molly said softly, "If Harry trusts you, then so do we."

"We have presents for them don't we?" Ron interrupted, and Harry had never been for grateful for him. 

"For me as well?" Draco asked quietly. Harry hated this Draco. Draco was supposed to be confident and sarcastic.

This time it was Arthur who answered, "Well, of course son-"

-Draco flinched slightly at the word son, a slight shake in his hand-

"-We were planning on you coming just in case," Molly continued for her husband, passing on a green wrapped box to Draco.

Draco stared down at the box, not opening it. His hands were shaking as everyone else in the room stared at him. Harry tried to cue his best friend into saying something random to distract from Draco (boyfriend?).

Ron looked back at Harry curiously, before finally getting the message, "So that Chudley Cannons game?" 

Immediately Bill, Ron and Ginny launched into a detailed conversation that not even Harry could follow. Molly however continued watch Draco, who slowly opened his package, making sure to not tear the wrapping paper. He opened the box to find a sweater.

A Weasley sweater.

-

Draco looked down at the green sweater numbly. The large silver D in the centre was giving him too many emotions that he couldn't name.

He had seen the Weasley's and Harry walking around in those sweaters, had made fun of them for it actually. But he had always been a little jealous of those sweaters, of the warmth they seemed to provide. He had imagined every once and a while that he had a sweater like that of his own, something to show how much his family truly loved him. So what if they were atrocious, they were also something like home.

And now he had one of his own.

In the background he could hear several people discussing quidditch, but there was nothing but a buzz in his ears.

"Do you like it?" He heard Mrs Weasley ask softly, her motherly hand pressed on his arm.

"Of course," He said, trying very very not to cry, "It's perfect..."

And there was Harry, sitting next to him, silently asking him if he needed to leave. Everything was perfect.

But it was so spectacularly messed up too.

Did they really want him here? Or was it all pretend? He was definitely an outsider, a hound among foxes, a Malfoy among Weasley's. He would never truly belong.

"Do you want to put it on?" Harry asked him, and Draco could tell he was trying to resist touching him (Not like that you dirty bastards).

"No, Potter, I'd like to wipe my ass with it-" Draco then realised where he was and abruptly stopped talking, blushing profusely.

You know whenever you say something even slightly inappropriate in class, and everything immediately goes quiet. That's exactly what happened, before Ginny burst out laughing, her gulping laughs rendering everyone else to join her. 

Maybe Draco could fit in after all.

/*/*/*/*/*

_Several Months Later_

Harry and Draco lay on their conjoined beds, their hands intertwined and bodies fit together.

"What's a weird thing that you like?" Harry asked, face pressed into the top of Draco's head.

Draco smirked up at Harry, "Well Potter, who knew you were into kinky-"

"Not like that! I mean something non sexual. Get your mind out of the gutter, Malfoy-"

"-Singing, while I play the piano, and only with the piano. I'm not even good at singing. It's weird, I know..."

Smiling softly, Harry kissed the blond. The kiss grew deeper until it wasn't just a kiss but they were kissing. 

Harry turned over so he was on top of the Slytherin, their lips open and tongues dancing. Suddenly Draco put a finger to Harry's lips, pushing him away, "What's your weird thing?" 

Reaching over for Draco's lips, Harry murmured, "You-"

Immediately he was shoved off, "I am not weird! If anyone is weird it's you Mr Golden Boy!"

Flopping to his back, Harry huffed, "Fine. My weird thing is mowing the lawn."

"What it 'mowing the lawn'?" Draco asked, a puzzled look on his face.

Harry smiled, "You know, like trimming the grass? How do you posh pureblood's trim your grass?"

"The house elves I assume?" Draco replied, not sounding certain.

"You don't even know-" Harry shook his head, "Whatever. Anyway, I used to have mow the Dursley's lawn with this muggle contraception. Mowing the lawn itself sucked, it was horrible work, but I love how my hands feel afterwards. Not quite vibrating but getting close."

Draco smiled over to Harry, "Maybe I should try 'mowing the lawn'."

Suddenly Harry burst into laughter, picturing the snobby Malfoy pushing a lawn mower in the Dursley's backyard.

"What?" Draco protested, "I could mow the lawn!"

"No... No you couldn't," Harry laughed, practically in hysterics. 

"I find that offensive," Draco sneered, slapping Harry slightly on his shoulder.

Suddenly they were kissing again, their lips moving soft and slow. This was delicate and heartfelt. It wasn't frantic or desperate like all the times before.

"Will you move in with me?" Harry asked, "After school ends?"

"What?" Draco responded, shocked.

"Ten Galleons-"

"-You want to live with me? Why?"

"I already am, aren't I?"

"Still-"

"I can't imagine not living with you now. I can't imagine not falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up with your feet in my face. I can't imagine not having you in my life. You've been such a big, annoying part of my life, and-"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, I'll move in with you. Of course I'll move in with you, you bloody idiot."

"Really?"

"Ten Galleons-"

"Oh, Fuck you."

_With pleasure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They'll be a couple more chapters of them like living together and the future and stuff.  
> Please give me suggestions!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff n stuff

Harry was filled with the dreadful realisation that there was only one week at Hogwarts. After that week, there'd be a graduation for the 7th and 8th years, and then... And then nothing.

He would never catch the snitch for Gryffindor again. He would never sit with his most beloved friends at the Gryffindor table again. He would never do his bloody homework again.

He didn't know how to feel.

Harry had never really had the time to think about the future and what he would be doing. When he was first at Hogwarts, he had nothing to think about except that magic was real and that he was magic. And then he had something happen every single fucking year. And then it was the war, and he was certain he wouldn't have a future.

He still wasn't sure he'd have a future.

Certainly everybody expected him to become an Auror, save some more lives. But he was sick and tired of saving people. After all, why should he save people when he can't even save himself? 

But did Harry really have the dedication to become a teacher?

The patience?

During Dumbledore's army, he barely stopped himself from snapping a few people's necks.

He certainly had the grades to become a teacher, as no teacher dared to give him bad marks. Becoming a professor was certainly a viable answer.

But... At the same time he just needed a break.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked from above him. Harry was lying with his head in Draco's lap on one of the black couches in the common room as Draco read. Over the last months they hadn't exactly came out with their relationship, but didn't hide it either. Everyone in 8th year knew about them, and generally accepted it, even Pansy.

In fact when Pansy found out, she immediately squealed, shouting "Fucking finally! Draco, you've been lusting after him forever!" Before Draco cut her off. After that Harry and Pansy had surprisingly become fast friends, teaming up to mercilessly tease Draco.

"Aren't you supposed to be reading?" Harry responded, looking up at his boyfriend with his eyebrows raised. 

The blond stared down at Harry snootily, "Well if my boyfriend," -Harry was filled with a tingly feeling when Draco said that word- "Has that sad little thoughtful look on his face, I have to ask what he's thinking about-"

"Sad little thoughtful look?" Harry asked.

"You looked sad," Draco replied, eyebrows pinched together in worry, "So Potter, what's wrong?"

"I'm devastated that you're still calling me Potter and not Harry. Honestly, it makes me want to break down into tears," Harry said, completely monotone.

"You prat!" Draco huffed before forcing Harry's head off his lap, and tucking his knees to his chest.

Looking over at Draco in betrayal, Harry cried, "I was laying there!"

"And you can lay there again," Harry went to pull Draco's legs down, "If," Groaning, Harry collapsed back on the couch, "You tell me what you were thinking about."

"I was thinking about the future and what to do with it." 

"That's easy," Draco laid down his legs for Harry to rest his head again, "Live with me, and have fabulous sex for eternity-"

"Draco!" Harry whisper shouted, looking around to see if anyone else had heard. Meeting Harry's gaze, Seamus cackled mercilessly while Dean's dark skin durned faintly red.

"What?" Draco asked, "It's true-"

"We'd love to join, wouldn't we Dean?" Seamus laughed, obviously joking, but by the look on Ron's face (Who was sitting a few feet away from them all), he hadn't realised it.

"We would love to leave them alone, wouldn't we Seamus?" Dean replied as Seamus laughed into his chest, tears streaming down his face.

"But..." Seamus gasped for breath, "Who knows what they'll get up to if we leave?" He managed to say before breaking into breathless laughs again.

Harry and Ron were turning a furious shade of red, "Wouldn't you like to know," Draco winked at the dying Irish boy, before turning to Harry.

"So who tops?" Seamus asked, finally calming down; Draco joined Harry and Ron, turning beet red, "Ah, I see," Seamus observed, "Our Harry does!"

Sputtering, Draco protested, "What makes you say that!?"

"The fact that you're blushing. If you topped you'd be all proud like-"

"Fuck you, Finnegan," Draco spat, before shoving his face into his book, still blushing.

Winking sloppily, Seamus smirked, "Anytime-"

"Hey!" Dean protested, wrapping a protective arm around the Irish boy. In apology, Seamus brought his lips to the taller boy's. The two boys crept behind a couch, mouths still attached.

To the sounds of loud smacking, Harry asked Ron softly, "Are we like this?"

Ron, face still red as his hair, stuttered, "No... I think I'd have to off myself if you were-" Immediately Draco brought his lips to Harry's, obnoxiously driving his tongue into Harry's mouth. Responding enthusiastically, Harry pushed Draco onto his back, hands on the blond's hips, Draco's arms hung loosely around Harry's neck.

Draco broke away for a few seconds to pant, "Don't you have somewhere to be Weasley?" To Ron who had been staring at them in utter disgust.

"Yes, the Astronomy tower to jump off of," Ron muttered, before rushing off, face red as his hair.

As Draco's mouth attached itself to Harry's neck, Harry half shouted half whimpered, "Sorry, mate," To the retreating form of Ron, before returning to the task at hand.

/*/*/*/*/*

As the NEWTS had already been completed, there was nothing much left to do during class but listen to the teachers drone on about the future. As Harry's eyes drooped listening to Professor Johnson's voice, he considered that he ought to start teaching right away, if only to save the children from having to listen to the professor.

But another option had opened up to Harry in the last couple days, as Madame Hooch was looking to retire in the next couple of years. Teaching young kids to fly almost seemed perfect. Even though he was brilliant at defence against the dark arts, he didn't really feel as if it was the right thing for him, there was too many negative memories attached to the profession.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, nudging him awake. Harry had been moved next to Hermione, and away from that awful 7th year, as both Ron and the 7th year were too busy looking at their desk mates to pay attention to the class. Unfortunately for Ron, this required them to switch places.

Scowling, Harry replied loudly enough for the professor to hear him purposely, "He's not going to care, I'm Harry Potter remember," The two looked over at Johnson, who only glanced at them briefly, blushing, before to continuing to drone off, voice croaky. 

"It doesn't hurt to be polite," Hermione responded in a harsh whisper. Merlin. He loved Hermione, but she could be such a fucking nag.

He scoffed, looking up at her from his arms, "I'm not the one who set fire to a teacher-"

Dark skin turning cherry red, Hermione protested, "That was in first year!"

Smirking, Harry replied, "Exactly."

The bushy haired girl didn't bother with a response, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Today was the last day of class and tomorrow was the graduation ceremony, something Harry was expected to speak at, and was dreading. What was he supposed to say? Our time here was utter shit and a bunch of us died, but now we don't have to be here anymore! He doubted Mcgnagall would appreciate the sentiment.

It was odd how he wanted to work here, and never leave, but yet absolutely despised this place and all that died here. Hey, but at least he didn't have a homicidal maniac after him anymore, gotta look on the bright side right?

He wanted a break though, a time to do nothing but what he wanted. And what he wanted to do was mostly Draco.

He already had rented a flat in muggle London, paid for with Sirius's money. It was a modest flat, not too large, but large enough for two to live comfortably. He couldn't stand to live in Grimmauld Place, not with Sirius's shadow hanging over the place. 

He had heard Luna's idea to start an orphanage for all the muggleborns abandoned by their parents and children orphaned by the war, maybe he could give Grimmauld Place to her and Ginny, it was certainly big enough.

He really needed to think of what he was going to say tomorrow, as he was sure that everything was eventually going to appear in the newspapers. 

Ugh, he'd talk to Draco after class about the speech. Draco probably wouldn't help him write it but at least he'd motivate Harry to do it himself.

/*/*/*/*/*

Looking out at the Great Hall, Harry was struck with the notion that this was his last meal here, his last breakfast at Hogwarts. They had a couple hours to pack and say goodbye before the graduation, after which they would take the Hogwarts express back to platform 9 3/4 for the last time. 

"Can't believe it's our last day," Ron said, mouth full of food.

Hermione slapped Ron lightly on the shoulder, "Don't talk with your mouth full!"

"Sorry Mione'" Ron started before realising he still had food is mouth, "Oh shit- -Sorry- -shit- I'm just gonna stop talking..."

Both Harry and Hermione burst into laughter. He hadn't done that in a while, they hadn't done that in a while, laugh together. It was almost as if it was first year again, innocently laughing together. Harry missed those times.

He noticed Draco staring at him from across the hall, smiling, probably because he was laughing, grinning. This was all because of Draco. While Draco didn't cure Harry's depression (Nobody can do that but yourself), he made Harry laugh again, made him smile and find humour in things. 

Maybe he was in love. No, he was definitely in love. They hadn't said it yet, but he was. He never would have ever imagined this before, before the war. But after all, there was a fine line behind love and hate. 

/*/*/*/*/*

"It's obvious that the last seven or eight years, depending on who you are, have been very difficult. Not all of us even made it here, and hopefully those people are watching us from wherever they are and telling me to get a move on. I'm sure Fred is practically weeping with how boring this speech is. Well Mate, deal with it.

Like I said, it hasn't been easy, but I certainly have had some of the best memories of my life here. Hogwarts saved me, Hogwarts gave me magic and my two best friends, and the love of my life-" 

-Wolf whistles erupted, most from the mouth of Seamus-

"Shut it Seamus, we all know it's true for you too. 

Obviously magic can be used for bad, we're all victims of that very thing, but magic can also be used for good, for beauty and for love, and Hogwarts taught us that. We must continue to use magic for good, for beauty and for love for the rest of our lives. And whenever you do, think of Hogwarts.

As we move on to whatever profession we've chosen, we'll always have Hogwarts here in our hearts. Yes Fred, I know how cheesy that is but I don't fucking care." Laughter rippled through audience, and Mcgnagall tried to glare at Harry, but she too was trying not to smile.

"And on that note, a moment of silence for those we lost- Just kidding Fred would hate that, so instead, you're all about to be covered in goop! Happy Graduation!" Screams and shrieks of laughter and disgust erupted as Gryffindor coloured goop exploded out of hidden canons from the edges of the room.

Ron and Hermione were shrieking with laughter as they flung the goop at each other. Draco stood glaring at Harry, looking utterly homicidal as goop dripped down from his hair to his face. 

Laughing, Harry ran towards the angry Slytherin and desperately pressed his lips to Draco's. As they clung to each other, the rest of the graduation group laughed and screamed and Harry almost felt normal again.

/*/*/*/*/*

Molly and Arthur came over to Harry afterwards, and Molly hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much Harry," Molly cried softly, "Fred would have loved it."

"I'm sure he loved it from wherever he is," Harry replied, hugging Molly back just as tightly, enjoying the motherly hug, something he never received before her.

"If he wasn't to busy wreaking havoc," Arthur chuckled, eye shiny.

"Anyway Harry," Molly said, wiping the tears from her face, "We just want you to know that you always have a home with us, and we love you."

"Thank you, I love you too."

Harry wasn't cured, the war would always haunt him, but right now he was content. He had a family, best friends and his soulmate.

So he'd be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, I can't update as often as before


End file.
